


8am Class

by Adohug



Series: Firefam [3]
Category: Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Are they dating?, Car Accident, Chorn avoids pronouns, Ducker and Jemilla are related, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hey remember the names I made up in my first fic, How everyone met, Keeri is a dancer, Molag has a cane and a limp, Pining, SB and Ducker are a package deal, SB and Ducker have been friends forever, Tiblyn and Ducker follow an old bird based religion, Trans Schwoopsie, and a lesbian, and the gender binary, car crash, comment and enable me to ramble i beg of you, ex-army Molag, not even they know, oblivious bi's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2019-11-03 20:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 20,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17884613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adohug/pseuds/Adohug
Summary: “You uh, look like you need this more than me.” The girl explains, still holding it out. Dumbfounded, Zazzalil can only stare at the cup until her brain reboots, starting suddenly and taking the cup, drinking for a long moment and sighing in contentment.“Christ almighty, I needed that.” She meets the girl’s eyes again, much more awake. “Thank you…”Or: How the Tribe meets, all because of an 8am lecture.Or or: I'm doing this man





	1. Monday (i)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome. Slowly, the rest of the tribe will appear, and I will add tags as they show up.

Zazzalil regrets skipping third grade the moment her alarm goes off. Slamming snooze, she rolls back over and snuggles deeper into her pillow, only moving again when she feels someone leaning over her.

“What.” More of a statement than a question, but she was tired.

“Well, I just wanted to, um, tell you that if you want coffee before your eight am class then you better get out of bed, like, five minutes ago.” Keeri, her best (read: only) friend and roommate, forgets to mention precisely _what_ time it is, prompting Zazzalil to panic and sit up.

“Wait what time is- _fucking christ,_ my class is across campus!” Clothes are thrown on, feet shoved into shoes, hair put up in a ponytail, and a small brunette can be seen sprinting across walks and grass with a barely-closed bag on her back not even a minute after this phrase is screamed. Her door was left open in her hurry, but Keeri closes it for her with a quiet but not hateful “you’re welcome.” Everyone in that dorm who was so rudely awoken by this commotion will pray in vain that this will be a one-time occurance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jemilla loves how the sunrise highlighted the mountains as she jogs around campus, summer-warm air barely cool enough to run in. As she approaches her dorm, she slows down to a walk, just enjoying the stillness of the college at seven am. 

She enters her room only briefly, grabbing her outfit and shower supplies, and is back in her room, dressed for the day, before her roommate’s alarm can go off. She heads out of her dorm by seven thirty, swinging by the dining hall for a few snacks and a coffee, and arrives at her first class several minutes early, and picks a good spot; not too close to the front, not too far back, not smack dab in the middle. Really, it was close to the door, but she didn’t mind.

Settled in, Jemilla watches as other people first trickle, then flood into the lecture hall. She scans the crowd, looking for familiar faces, and only finds a few; some poor girl who got stuck with the nickname Mouthface, and Claire, an old lab partner. Checking her watch, she realizes that there’s only a minute or so until eight, so she refocuses on the front of the room. This year already feels like it’s going to go smoothly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With seconds to spare, Zazz shoves the door open, huffing in the door frame for a moment. That was probably the fastest she had ever run for… well, anything, really. Finally catching up to reality, she realizes that not only was she the last to arrive, but everyone had looked over at the door slamming against the wall and were now staring at her. It was only in this moment that Zazzalil realized what she looked like; sweatpants, a t-shirt covered by a sweater proclaiming “CAUTION: Hot Stuff,” and her hair even messier than normal.

Refusing to show embarrassment (even though her cheeks were aflame), she straightens up and strides to the nearest open seat, sliding in and pulling out her laptop.

A throat is cleared next to her, and she looks up into dazzling brown eyes framed by perfectly placed curls. The girl glances down at her hands, and Zazz’s attention follows, noticing the coffee cup being offered to her.

“You uh, look like you need this more than me.” The girl explains, still holding it out. Dumbfounded, Zazzalil can only stare at the cup until her brain reboots, starting suddenly and taking the cup, drinking for a long moment and sighing in contentment.

“Christ almighty, I needed that.” She meets the girl’s eyes again, much more awake. “Thank you…”

“Oh, my friends call me Jemilla.” The girl- _Jemilla_ \- smiles, giving Zazz the name she was digging for.

“Someone I partnered with for a project called me Zazzalil, and I now respond to that more than my real name.” 

Jemilla laughs for a second before responding. “Was this partner Emberly? She’s my roommate.”

Zazzalil is stopped from answering by the arrival of the teacher. “Alright class, I’ll ignore that some of you were late, if you ignore that I’m the latest.”


	2. Monday (ii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemilla stops talking to scarf down part of her food, presumably collecting her thoughts, as Ducker exchanges a look with SB that could, from an outsider, be read as _hoo boy_ , but between them held an entire conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters will vary wildly in length and quality, I write them and don't proofread; no one does, actually.

“Ducker, holy fuck, you will not _believe_ the girl I just met- hey SB- you gotta help me, bro-bro!” Ducker sighs, setting his spoon down and swatting SB’s hand away from his food to focus on a flustered Jemilla. 

“Sit down sis, and tell me about this new crush.” He fixes his hat as the girl flusters, stammering out _not a crush_ and _fuck you, help_ along with other things, causing him to laugh. “I’m kidding, Jem, calm the Duck down. Just… tell me about your class with this girl.” 

“Right, okay. Yeah.” Jemilla sits down across from the boys, smacking SB’s hand away from her lunch tray. “So she sprints in like two minutes before the teacher shows up, all flustered, and messy, and how the fuck did she still look pretty when she was so obviously such a mess, nope nope moving on, I offered her my coffee and the name she gave me was Zazzalil, which means she’s met Emberly, should I go ask her about this girl, maybe she’ll know--” Jemilla moves to stand up, looking around for her roommate, and it takes Ducker and SB tugging at her arms to keep her where she was. “Right, right, sorry. Class starts, we go over the syllabus because it’s the first day, and then we were all told to pair up and interview the person next to us, because we’ll have to present about them in a few classes; this _is_ a public speaking class. So I turn to Zazzalil, and she seems a little more awake because of the coffee I gave her, and she’s looking around nervously-- she probably didn’t know anyone in the class, and I offered myself as a partner and- and- fuck a duck, Ducker, you could _feel_ the relief coming off of her in waves when she heard me--” 

Jemilla stops talking to scarf down part of her food, presumably collecting her thoughts, as Ducker exchanges a look with SB that could, from an outsider, be read as _hoo boy_ , but between them held an entire conversation.

The conversation is as follows:

_Sounds like when Schwoopsie entered our life._

_As bad as then?_

_No, you’re right; worse._

_We’re hooking them up, right?_

_Obviously._

“So we spent the rest of the lecture talking, and I learned a lot about her, like how her dad grew up in a bilingual household and she had to teach her grandparents how to use their new phones, and the last time she was let into the kitchen while someone was cooking they had to call the fire department, and she was just getting a glass of water, and-- hey, wait, I came here for help, why am I the only one talking?” 

Ducker sighs, handing SB a five dollar bill while responding. “Well, you haven’t given us anything to help you with yet. And until you give us something to work with, we can’t help you.” He stands up, tray in hand. “We have a theology class to get to, but I can ask around about this girl, Zazzalil right?” 

“Yeah, small, brunette, stunning brown eyes and a tendency to jump from indifference to excitement--” Ducker was out of earshot before Jemilla could finish her sentence.

SB, next to him, asks, “Alright, who’s the best for this situation?”

“Tiblyn, I think. She can at least talk to Emberly about this whole thing.”

“Hahah, yes!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, Keeri, I swear, her eyes were so fucking entrancing, d’you think she knows hypnosis? Should I be worried she’ll brainwash me?” Keeri sighs over the phone, amused and already done with her friend’s antics.

“Zazz, I don’t think that’s how hypnosis works. I think you have to be at least partially straight for brainwashing to work on you, so you’re safe.” Moving around the dance studio, she makes sure everything is placed right while Zazz responds.

“That’s a relief. Did you know she’s roommates with that girl who fucked up our names when we had that project in Psych 101 last year? And that she’s a drummer?”

“A drummer? You should introduce me, I need a drummer for my recital.”

“Keeri, your recital is in June. It’s barely September.”

“Your point?” She picks up the ribbons and tosses them towards the wall. Scratch that part from the routine, then.

“You change your mind about your dance routines and recitals more often than you blink. Seriously, it’s fucking creepy how long you go between blinks.” 

Keeri pauses in her retrieval of the ribbons-- maybe if she moved that part to earlier it could work-- to huff at her friend. “I fully admit my tendency to not have a strong conviction about many things, but I will… have to concede that point to you, because it’s true, if an exaggeration.”

She can hear Zazz cackle over the line. “It’s not an exaggeration, but I don’t have time to go into the semantics, I have this theology class starting soo-- shit, now, talk to ya in the room loveyoubye!” The line is hung up before Keeri can respond, causing her to sigh again.

“I love you too, Zazz.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? actually doing a multichaptered fic? maybe!


	3. Monday (iii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who’s caught your eye this week, Tib?” She’s brought back to the present by SB’s elbow in her back and his voice in her ear. “Guy or girl?”
> 
> “W-well, she didn’t catch my eye like _that_ , this time, but,” She points the girl out, “She was just in our theology class, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to introduce everyone and how they know each other before moving plot along, but keep in mind that I don't know what the plot is going to be.

“See, if we interpret this part of the laws through the eyes of the masses, we get a message that wouldn’t mean ‘progress pleases the Duck,’ but instead something closer to ‘the Duck brings progress to those who believe.’” Ducker and SB walk out of the lecture hall, Ducker holding a conversation with Tiblyn, the only other person who had heard of his religion before meeting him (she also practiced it, go figure).

“Wouldn’t translating it that way disavow the necessity for the Atlas-like birds who hold up the sky? Because the following part of the laws only makes sense if translated with ‘progress pleases the Duck’ preceding it.” Tiblyn glances at SB, who was idly following the two as he was known to do. She catches herself staring at his hair-- long and pulled into a low ponytail, very suave-- and glances somewhere, _anywhere_ else. She catches sight of a short brunette in a red sweater speedwalking past them, eyes glued to her phone. She looked familiar…

“Who’s caught your eye this week, Tib?” She’s brought back to the present by SB’s elbow in her back and his voice in her ear. “Guy or girl?”

“W-well, she didn’t catch my eye like _that_ , this time, but,” She points the girl out, “She was just in our theology class, right?”

Ducker follows her finger and takes in the stranger. “Yeah, sat a few rows in front of us, by the door.” He adjusts his hat for a sec. “Sorta reminds me of the girl ‘Milla was talking about…”

“Oh, yeah!” SB chimes in, swinging an arm over Ducker’s and Tiblyn’s shoulders. “She was totally doing her _fuckyou it’s not a crush_ thing for someone she met in her 8am lecture, Jazzamilly, right?”

“She seems familiar is all…” Tiblyn checks the watch on SB’s arm, starling at the time. “Oh, I have to get to my next class, see you guys later!” She ducks from her friend’s arm, ignoring the impulse of _just kiss his bicep idiot_ , and hurried across campus to the art quad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 **Zazzalazz:** _that duck dude was staring at me in class_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _should i get someone to scare him off?_

“Tiblyn! Over here!” Keeri looks up from her conversation with Zazz when she hears Emberly call for her friend. She waves when she sees Tiblyn, too, gesturing for her to join them in the classroom. “What’s your schedule this semester?”

After a quick greeting, Tiblyn answers the question. “I have the morning free, and theology right after lunch, before this. Tomorrow I have three classes, and I’m already behind on my workout routine.” She settles in, glad to have familiar faces in her class. “Speaking of, there was a girl I noticed in my class, she seemed familiar.”

 **Zazzalazz:** _nah_

 **Zazzalazz:** _he didnt feel threatening_

 **Zazzalazz:** _more like he was tryin ta place me in his memories_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _oh, good. i was scared i would need to go defend my friend, and you know my confrontational skills suck,,,_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _class now, i have to pay attention._

“Really? What did she look like?” Keeri locks her phone and slips it into her bag, focusing on the conversation.

“Short, brunette, had a red sweater on, even though it’s hot as balls out today… SB said her name might be something like… Jazzamilla? I don’t know how he knew that name, bu--”

“Wait a sec.” Keeri interrupt unintentionally. “Did you mean Zazzalil? That name is way too butchered to be anything else.” 

Emberly blinks, squinting and trying to focus on the conversation. “Keeri, do you know this girl?”

“Yeah, she’s my roommate, and I’m, like, her only friend.” She pauses, staring off into space for a second. “Which is sorta sad, considering the fact that we’ve all been here for a year already.”

“Alllllllright, chefs, it’s syllabus day, but you still have to pay attention, because I can and might quiz you on any hand motions I make throughout this class!” The three girls all focus on the teacher, who entered with all the flair they had heard about from the upperclassmen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in high school, if any college people could tell me how college classes are named I would be very grateful


	4. Monday (iv)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, I um…” Jemilla breaks it, like she breaks most silences. “I met a girl in my eight AM class today.”
> 
> “Oh, a girl huh?” The blonde smiles, nudging the brunette. “Do tell!”
> 
> “Well, I mean, I didn’t meet her _like that_ \--”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn y'all that this update schedule would be nonexistent

“J-Mills! Over here!” Jemilla pauses in her walk back to her dorm to pinpoint the voice, brightening up when she sees her friend sprawled out on the quad under a tree. She heads over, greeting the blonde with a grin and a (non-painful) kick to the side.

“Hey, Schwoops, how’s your day been? What’s your roommate like?” Schwoopsie shrugs, using her bag as a pillow.

“Eh, Chorn’s nice, if a little strange. You’ve probably seen ‘em around campus; long, vibrant red hair, prefers to only be referred to as ‘Chorn…’ oh!” She snaps her fingers and points in Jemilla’s general direction. “Chorn’s on crew with SB! Coxswain, I think.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Jemilla sits down next to Schwoopise, pausing before continuing. “You, uh, never called me, after…” She waves a hand, indicating the entirety of Schwoopsie’s body. “... you know.”

“After coming out to my folks?” She props herself up on her elbows. “Yeah, they took it okay. Okay enough, actually, that they immediately took me out to eat. Then, they decided I needed an _immediate_ wardrobe makeover, and, well… by the time I remembered, it was too late.”

Jemilla sat there for a moment. “I’m happy for you, but… you said you would call.”

“Dammit, ‘Milla, don’t use that tone! You know what happens when you use that tone!” She sighs, putting a hand on Jemilla’s forearm. “Look, I’m _sorry_ , okay? It’s just… it’s not every day that you find out your conservative parents love you even after you tell them their son is their daughter.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I get that.” Jemilla smiles at her friend. “I didn’t even realize I used that tone.” She chuckles before sobering up again. “I just… fell into old habits, right?”

“Yeah.”

A small silence, heavy with old memories and unspoken conversations they’ve yet to have. 

“Oh, I um…” Jemilla breaks it, like she breaks most silences. “I met a girl in my eight AM class today.”

“Oh, a girl huh?” The blonde smiles, nudging the brunette. “Do tell!”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t meet her _like that_ \--”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zazzalil opens her door and immediately drops her bag onto the floor, crossing the small room in large (for her) steps and flopping face first onto her bed. 

“Long day?”

A muffled groan is Keeri’s only response.

“Mmhm. Well, at least take off that sweater before falling asleep, it’s hot as balls out today. Actually,” she adds, “How did you manage to survive all day in such a heavy sweater?”

“I didn’t have another shirt on and I don’t want to just walk around with only a bra on, I’m not a nudist.” Zazzalil finally turns over, taking her friend’s advice and pulling her shirt off. 

Keeri looks away. “I think there’s a club about nudism, somewhere on campus. There’s a girl who’s in it because her whole family’s, like, a nudist colony, I think…” She stops talking, mostly because the reason she was rambling is now covered up in a shirt again.

“I think I know about her. Mouthface, right?” Zazz lets her hair down, finally having the time to brush it, and-- _oh, come on Keeri, focus on the conversation!_

“Yeah, her. I had a class with her last semester.”

“Speaking of classes,” Keeri sighs in relief at the subject change, “My eight AM sprint across campus? Not fun.”

“Oh, yeah, you met a girl?” She thinks she hides the heartbreak in her soul pretty well.

“Not meeting a girl like that, Keeri, but… I did get a vibe of ‘not totally straight’ from her. I don’t think she thought of me like that, though.” 

Keeri sighs. “Zazz, I love you, but…” 

Zazz should have looked up, but instead, the slipper hitting her face was a complete surprise.

She deserved it, for being so dense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I will eventually show everyone together. I'm just... trying to flesh out connections between characters, first, so it doesn't feel like I'm just shoehorning everyone in.
> 
> as always, comments and kudos would be great, but just give me what you think I deserve.


	5. Tuesday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hm, I think more like a third of them.” The blonde turns to Schwoopsie. “I’m Keeri. At least, according to Emberly, I’m Keeri.”
> 
> “My friends call me Schwoopsie, she/her.” She smiles at Keeri, glad to make a new friend. 
> 
> “Nice to meet you, Schwoopsie. Is Schwoops an okay thing to call you?” Keeri gets another text, rolling her eyes as she reads it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The doc I'm writing this in has reached ten full pages

Schwoopsie walks into her biology class and surveys the crowd, eventually landing on a blonde with her hair up in two messy buns, sitting alone. She heads over to her, passing full table after full. “Hey, could I sit here?” 

The blonde looked up from her phone, shooting off one last text and locking it. “Yeah, sure.”

Schwoopsie smiles in relief, taking her bag off and sitting down. “Thanks. Pretty full class, huh?”

“I’ll say. I showed up, like, ten minutes early and it was already half full.” Her tablemate replies just before her phone buzzes. She picks it up while continuing. “I guess this is what we get for signing up with Hidgens’ class.”

“I’ll say. This guy’s, like, almost a celebrity, with his show and all.”

“I wonder how many people are just here because of _Workin’ Boys_?” 

Schwoopsie looks around the room, and hazards a guess. “Iunno, maybe half of ‘em?”

“Hm, I think more like a third of them.” The blonde turns to Schwoopsie. “I’m Keeri. At least, according to Emberly, I’m Keeri.”

“My friends call me Schwoopsie, she/her.” She smiles at Keeri, glad to make a new friend. 

“Nice to meet you, Schwoopsie. Is Schwoops an okay thing to call you?” Keeri gets another text, rolling her eyes as she reads it.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Hey, who’re ya texting?” Her curiosity finally getting the better of her, Schwoopsie tries to see the screen.

Keeri angles the phone away. “My roommate. She ran into her crush in the dining hall, and was unprepared for it. Of course, she doesn’t _know_ that she likes her, which makes this worse, as I, her only friend, have to watch this unfold until she realizes this is a crush.” She explains this all with a fond, yet exasperated, tone.

Schwoopsie also notes a hint of… something, in the tone. “Man, I have a stupidly oblivious friend, too. She doesn’t even really have a gaydar, either, which makes it even worse.”

Keeri lets out a small laugh. “They’d be useless without us, huh?”

Professor Hidgens arrives before she can respond, immediately garnering everyone’s attention, and a few cheers. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 **Zazzalazz:** _keeri_

 **Zazzalazz:** _keeri???_

Shit. 

Shit shit shit shit _shit!!!_

Here she is: her friend not responding, her breakfast forgotten in front of her, her classmate heading towards her. Zazzalil was frozen, staring and panicking. 

Wait, why was she panicking?

Jemilla’s her classmate.

Her tall, beautiful, maybe-not-straight classmate who is _walking over to her_.

She _really_ regrets skipping third grade.

“Hey! Zazzalil, right?” Jemilla stops across from Zazz, holding a tray and smiling brightly.

Zazz shakes herself together, and summons a smile to her face, greeting her. “Jemilla, hi! You can sit down if you want, I don’t mind.” 

The taller girl smiles, taking the invitation and sitting across from Zazzalil. “Thanks. How were the rest of your classes, yesterday?”

“Well, I didn’t have to sprint to any other classes, luckily,” the two share a smile before she continues, “but I did have a theology class with a couple’a people I recognize from some gen ed’s last year. Like, that dude with the big hat who talks about ducks a lot? Always hanging out with a crew team jock?”

“Ducker and SB, yeah! He mentioned he had a theology class after lunch.” Zazz blinks. She knew them?

“You know them?”

Jemilla gives her a _”duh”_ look. “Yeah, Ducker’s my brother, and SB is his…” She trails off, ignoring the _gimme a sec, I’m processing_ blank stare on Zazz’s face to think for a moment. “... Actually, I don’t know if they’re dating or not. I need to grill them on that--”

“You’re related to him?” Zazzalil interrupts her train of thought, mostly unintentionally. 

“Well, we’re both adopted, but yeah, basically.” Jemilla pops a grape into her mouth from her tray. “His thing about ducks is all based on a religion he found online a few years back. I don’t really understand it, but it makes him happy.” She shrugs, as if to say _what can ya do_.

“Huh, okay. I’m an only child, biologically and legally.” Zazz absorbs this information as best she can, and moves on. 

The conversation shifts and flows naturally between the two, until Zazz takes a look at her phone for the time and jumps. “Oh, I have a class to get to, it starts at ten!” She stands up, grabbing her tray and all her stuff.

“It’s almost ten? I have to get to class, too; English, I think?” Jemilla stands up and joins Zazz, who racks her brain for the name of her class.

“201? I think that’s the name of my class… In Peeksar, by Magic Statue?” 

Jemilla nods. “I guess we have it together, then. Wanna head over together?”

Zazz’s brain stops for a moment, then restarts at a mile a minute. _Is she walking me to the class we share? Is that gay? Is this just being friendly? Wait you haven’t responded yet, quick, yes or no, yes or-- **why am I freaking out?**_

“Fuck yeah, might as well, amiright?” Did she just use that line?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to keep track of how I'm tying this college into as many of the Starkid shows as possible I will love you and help you keep it straight (or, really, Bi)


	6. Tuesday (ii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She likes to make a game of guessing their potential majors, if only to amuse herself. The dark-skinned girl hanging out by the jock and the crazy hat kid? Exercise and food; physical therapy, maybe. The jock has a crew shirt on, so it’s hard to tell, but the weird hat fucker is a theology major, without a doubt. Molag can hear some of the things he’s saying to his companions -- what was that about a duck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molag, our favorite turtle lover!

Molag is tired. Tired of student loans, tired of her roommate, and tired of these privileged fucks she has to help teach twice a week. She’s tired of them, and her first class hasn’t even started yet. Being a TA is hard work, but being a TA in Clivesdale is even harder. It’s better than the army, but it’s still hard.

She sips her third cup of coffee as she watches her students wander in, most of them already resigned to the boredom of a gen ed class in their sophomore year. The potential english majors are easy to spot; they already have their laptops out and actually look excited. 

She likes to make a game of guessing their potential majors, if only to amuse herself. The dark-skinned girl hanging out by the jock and the crazy hat kid? Exercise and food; physical therapy, maybe. The jock has a crew shirt on, so it’s hard to tell, but the weird hat fucker is a theology major, without a doubt. Molag can hear some of the things he’s saying to his companions -- what was that about a duck?

Nearby those three, there’s a food major squinting at everyone next to a blonde… who’s majoring in something to do with either the biology or music. Another blonde walked in, and sat between the two groups Molag’s already mentioned. Undecided, probably acting or improv.

Ooh, looks like there are a couple of gals walking in. The taller one… she can’t tell the major, but she’s the top. The smaller bottom is a business major, without a doubt.

… Actually, she looks a little familiar… ah, fuck it, class is about to start, anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, ya privileged fucks, this is English 201. I’m your TA, and y’all can either call me Molag or the bitch in charge of making your life a living hell.” The classroom shuts up, Jemilla settling in between Schwoopsie (on her right) and Zazzalil (her left). “Now, your professor is a piece of shit and will only show up once in a blue moon, so I’ll be your main teacher.”

“I like her,” Jemilla hears from her right, followed quickly by a snort on her left. She glances over to her left, noticing Zazzalil share a look with a blonde on her other side.

She suddenly feels… weird. She’s glad Zazzalil knows someone else in the class, seriously! In their other class, she was alone until Jemilla started talking to her. The fact that she has someone else to talk to is great! _She isn’t talking to you, though._ A tiny voice is coming from the corner of her mind. _She has other friends, she doesn’t want to be yours._

Jemilla almost agrees with the voice, still unknowingly staring to her left, when Zazzalil looks to Jemilla and meets her eyes, giving the taller girl a soft smile. 

The smile silences the tiny voice, and Jemilla smiles back, capturing this moment in her mind.

“-- And I have groups listed up here, gather with your group and go over the assignment.” Molag grabs a stick that was leaning near her and hops off the desk, breaking the moment and making Jemilla have to scramble to remember what Molag had been saying before. As the TA limps away -- curiosity to be satisfied at a later date -- the room rustles into action, students gathering in front of the lists to see who was grouped together.

Jemilla sees SB already at the lists and leans forward to tap Ducker on the shoulder. “What are we doing?”

“Getting into groups and starting the work assigned to us. It’s online, were you not listening?” He turns around, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “That’s unlike you, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” She raises her voice a little, feeling Schwoopsie’s curious stare on her. “Just…” she glances towards Zazzalil. “... A little distracted for a minute.” 

He doesn’t buy it, she can tell, but he lets it drop. “Well, just go down and figure out your group. They’ll help you.” At this point, SB returns, pulling his attention from his sister.

Jemilla sighs, making her way to the front to check the list. This won’t be so bad, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can someone enable me and ask about little details I add so I can spew about them pleaseandthankyou


	7. Tuesday (iii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a shuffle as some people move closer to Jemilla -- Chorn, Tiblyn and Keeri, as Zazzalil was already next to her -- to give her their numbers, and Emberly checks the time, realizing class is almost over.
> 
> Emberly sees Molag move from her corner, and she turns to watch the TA. “Alright, get out, ya privileged fucks!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is two chapters in a day? ah well

Nine people sit in a group, going in a circle and introducing themselves. Emberly recognizes them all, and is using the names she calls them in her head. Chorn, Ducker, SB, Schwoopsie, Jemilla, Zazzalil, Keeri, Tiblyn, and herself. These might not be their real names, but the only person she knows by their real name is herself. 

The others are laughing about something, she can tell that much. A few of them are pointing to each other, and she can’t keep up with everyone talking all at once. She can’t focus on anyone, she can’t _hear_ all the different things being said, and she’s falling behind on the conversation, because Ducker said something, and three people responded at once, and no Keeri replied, and-- 

A hand on her arm, takes her attention away from the group, and she looks at it to find a redhead staring at her. Chorn.

Chorn’s head is tilted, and Emberly deciphers the body language before Chorn even tries to speak. _Curious, concerned, trying to help._ “Are you okay?”

Emberly nods automatically, then stops to reconsider. “They’re all talking too fast for me to follow the conversation. I have trouble with group projects because of this.” She shrugs. “I’m used to it, but it’s not fun.”

Chorn nods, then turns to the group, Emberly watching. “Hey, shut up!”

She looks around the group, surprised to find everyone quiet and focused on Chorn as the redhead continues. “Emberly can’t follow this cross talk. Slow down or wait. Indicate you’re talking.”

Emberly ducks her head, embarrassed that someone she barely knows has to help her. Someone else is talking, but she tunes them out, needing a minute to just breathe.

Chorn touches her arm again, and she looks back up, looking around the group again. Jemilla grabs everyone’s attention. “Since this assignment has to be completed out of class, I think we should make a group chat to coordinate meetups. If I don’t have your number, give it to me; I’ll make the chat and add everyone.”

There’s a shuffle as some people move closer to Jemilla -- Chorn, Tiblyn and Keeri, as Zazzalil was already next to her -- to give her their numbers, and Emberly checks the time, realizing class is almost over.

Emberly sees Molag move from her corner, and she turns to watch the TA. “Alright, get out, ya privileged fucks!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keeri walks out with Zazzalil. “I don’t think Jemilla’s totally straight, Zazz.”

“Are you sure? I’m still--” Zazz stops in her tracks, face paling. Keeri watches, confused.

“Zazz? Are you--” She stops talking, following her friend’s line of sight to a small brunette with her hair in a bun, heading this way. “Oh, god…”

Keeri grabs Zazz’s elbow and pulls her off the path, ending up behind a bench. The other girl didn’t notice them, luckily, and walks past them with a look of bone-tiredness on her face. “Zazz, was that--”

“Yeah.” She manages to choke a word out, swallowing thickly. “Fuck, I thought she went back, I thought I was fucking _over this_ \--” She puts her head between her hands and curls into her knees, trying vainly to level out her breathing. Keeri can only sit there, a constant presence; past experience tells her it’s best not to touch her, no matter how much she wants to. 

So, Keeri settles down next to her curled up friend, shooting the meanest looks she can to any passers by who stare. Eventually, She hears one last sniffle from Zazz, and she looks over and offers her a napkin she found in her bag.

“Thanks.” She takes it, drying her face and blowing her nose. “I was unprepared for…”

“So was I. Let’s drop it, okay?” Keeri offers Zazz a hand. “Let’s go get some food before our afternoon classes; crying burns calories.”

That got a small giggle from Zazz, and Keeri smiles. Yeah, she’ll be okay today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who did Zazz see? comment your guesses  
> also: if there are any small vignettes or moments/character interactions you guys want in this, comment them! I will totally use them as inspiration for what to write next


	8. Tuesday (iv)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **SmellThemBro:** _jem, this chat name sucks_
> 
>  **SmellThemBro** _renamed chat_ **Tribe of Misfits**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one is a little shorter than normal but shh

**Jmills** _created the chat_ **Assignment Get-Together**

 **Jmills** _added_ **Zazzalazz, DeeriKeeri, Firely, DuckisLord, Tibulyn, BaDumTss, IAmChorn,** _and_ **SmellThemBro** _to_ **Assignment Get-Together**

 **SmellThemBro:** _jem, this chat name sucks_

 **SmellThemBro** _renamed chat_ **Tribe of Misfits**

 **Jmills:** _SB, that name was perfectly reasonable. It summarized the purpose of the chat succinctly and accurately._

 **Zazzalazz:** _jemilla please dont tell me you punctuate when texting_

 **DuckisLord:** _She’s been texting like this since we were little_

 **DuckisLord:** _It’s hopeless_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _don’t mind zazz, she thinks punctuation is for “the capitalists”_

 **Zazzalazz:** _keeri shut up you know its true_

 **BaDumTss:** _ANYWAYS, jemilla had a point to make_

 **Jmills:** _Thank you, Schwoopsie._

 **Jmills:** _As I was trying to say, this chat is for the organization of our meetups to complete the assignments given to us. If we all work together, there will be less individual work in the end._

 **Jmills:** _As such, I think we should meet as soon as possible to complete this one._

 **SmellThemBro:** _… anyways, ducker and i are hanging out by the boathouse who wants to see me do a flip from the roof_

 **Firely:** _The crew team’s boathouse?_

 **SmellThemBro:** _hell yeah_

 **Firely:** _Tiblyn and I are heading over now_

 **Jmills:** _SB, no._

 **Zazzalazz:** _sb yes_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _sb yes_

 **Firely:** _SB yes_

 **DuckisLord:** _SB yes_

 **BaDumTss:** _sb yes_

 **IAmChorn:** _sb yes_

 **Tibulyn:** _SB yes_

 **SmellThemBro:** _SB, YES!_

 **Jmills:** _Enablers, all of you._

 **BaDumTss:** _aw, ya love us, milla_

 **Jmills:** _Ducker, yes. SB, tentatively at the moment. You, maybe._

 **Zazzalazz:** _feelin the love jemilla_

 **Zazzalazz:** _oh_

 **Zazzalazz:** _oh shit_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _zazz?_

 **Zazzalazz:** _keeri call me its her_

 **Zazzalazz:** _again_

 **Zazzalazz:** _fuck we share ac laas_

 **Jmills:** _Zazzalil? Keeri, what’s going on?_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _nothing you guys need to worry about_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _i’ll handle it_

 **DuckisLord:** _… Well anyways_

 **DuckisLord:** _doaflip.mov_

 **DuckisLord:** _For those who weren’t there_

 **Jmills:** _SB, did you break the dock?_

 **SmellThemBro:** _… no_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zazzalil hangs up, taking a deep breath. The panic wasn’t as bad as earlier; she knows she’s on campus now, which will help lessen it all. 

Squaring her shoulders, Zazz enters the classroom, keeping her head down and beelining to the back of the room. This was a business class, too; she was looking forward to it.

Of course, avoiding her takes priority.

A few images flash across her mind -- the red sedan, the ambulances, the funeral -- before she pushes her from her mind and focuses on the front.

She wasn’t sitting in her line of sight, thank god. If she had been, this would be a nightmare class for the semester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't apologize because I'm not sorry


	9. Wednesday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took Emberly threatening to tie her to her bed last night to stop her pacing. Can anyone blame her? Jemilla just wants her friend to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but this interaction needed to be made so I can move on

Jemilla is in the classroom by 7:46, bouncing her knee nervously. Zazzalil hadn’t answered any texts from her or Ducker or SB or Schwoopsie, or anyone, really. She might have talked to Keeri, but the most Jemilla got from her was the phrase “She’ll tell you if she wants you to know.”

It took Emberly threatening to tie her to her bed last night to stop her pacing. Can anyone blame her? Jemilla just wants her friend to be okay. She’s ignoring the voice that’s saying _you’ve only known her for two days,_ and instead has her eyes glued to the doorway, watching everyone walk in. At 7:56 on the dot, the brunette she was waiting for walks in, and she perks up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Zazzalil!” The girl in question freezes, knowing exactly who called her name. For the third time in as many days, she regrets skipping third grade.

Now, Zazz is faced with a dilemma. Does she sit next to the only person she knows in the room, knowing full well that she’ll be bombarded with questions about yesterday in the group chat, or does she sit alone, panicking when the teacher tells them to split up into groups?

She weighs the options in her mind for a minute or so, and makes her way to a seat. Being questioned is going to suck, but she can’t handle being alone in another class.

Which is sorta funny; a year ago, she would have much preferred sitting alone. Fuck, a _week_ ago she would have rather sat alone. What changed?

She can’t dwell on it any longer, as Jemilla beings talking before she even sits down. “There you are, you haven’t been answering anyone, we’ve been worried sick! Are you okay?”

She manages a weak smile. “I’m fine, now.” 

“That’s a relief.” She can see the taller girl sag a little. “If it’s not too invasive -- and you don’t have to answer! -- could I ask why you sounded so panicked?” 

Zazz stiffens a little, hearing the squeal of tires trying to brake and the wail of sirens for a moment, but shakes her head quickly. “I sounded panicked because I was,” is all she says, and luckily, Mr. Lupin walked in, saving her from explaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say that every comment on this fic makes me so happy, and that this document is 17 pages long.


	10. Wednesday (ii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, Zazzy, looks like I’ll have to do the trial and error method.” Schwoopsie nods to herself, refusing to elaborate for a bewildered Zazzalil. “So, with that out of the way, I’m free to move on!”
> 
> “What, no, what’s the tri--”
> 
> “Tell me a bit about yourself, Lilly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This document is twenty pages long!

“Cmon, Keeri, tell us what happened!” The blonde in question sighs, as her friends bombard her with their curiosity.

“I told you, she really doesn’t like talking about it. I’m not telling you unless she’s okay with it.” She sees Tiblyn and Emberly huff, but this is the one thing she won’t flake on. “Now shut up, the teacher’s talking.”

“- into groups of four for this lesson, class. It’s cooking time! Get a group, call dibs on a station, and get busy!” The three girls look at each other and head over to a kitchenette. 

While they’re setting up, they hear a cough behind them. “Uhm, excuse me? I need a group, and you guys seem the least intense out of everyone here, so I was wondering if I could work with you?”

Keeri turns around, already fine with this stranger joining them, to find a tall man with his hair up in a bun. She nods at him, smiling. “Of course you can!”

Tiblyn adds a caveat. “You better prepare to be lost in our conversation, though, because we’re grilling Keeri about something.”

Emberly, meanwhile, hasn’t said a word, and only stares at this guy. 

Feeling self-conscious, he scratches the side of his neck and shifts his weight. “I-I’m fine with that. I’m Grant, by the way.”

Keeri watches Emberly, waiting for the name she’ll give him. “Grunt?”

The guy stops, scrunches his eyebrows, and shrugs. “Yeah, that’s good enough.” 

“Well, Grunt, come on, we need to start working on this!” At Tiblyn’s urging, the three girls and Grunt get to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Schwoopsie, laying on the grass again, notices Zazzalil heading down a path. “Yo! Zazzalil!” The brunette freezes, glancing around before seeing her waving arm. The blonde can see the decision being made in the brunette’s head as she heads over, standing awkwardly at Schwoopsie’s feet. 

“Hey, Schwoopsie, right?” Zazzalil toys with a strap on her bag. “How, uh, how’ve your classes been?”

“Eh, same old, same old. Hey, sit down, I’m not gonna bite!” She pats the grass next to her, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. That at least gets a snort out of Zazzalil, who takes the invitation. “Now, before we progress in this conversation, I need to know one thing: nicknames. Do ya like ‘em, which ones do ya like, how many times can I say a stupid one before you hit me with a book, y’know, normal stuff.”

The brunette scrunches her eyebrows together, staring off into space before responding. “Well, Emberly gave me the name Zazzalil, and Keeri calls me Zazz, but other than my real name that’s pretty much all anyone calls me.” She shrugs. “To be fair, up until the beginning of this week, I only interacted with Keeri in any major way, but…”

“Alright, Zazzy, looks like I’ll have to do the trial and error method.” Schwoopsie nods to herself, refusing to elaborate for a bewildered Zazzalil. “So, with that out of the way, I’m free to move on!”

“What, no, what’s the tri--”

“Tell me a bit about yourself, Lilly.”

“Uh--” Her disorientation method is working. “I, uh, well, I’m a local. My mom lives over in Hatchetfield, the next town over, y’know, and I didn’t want to go very far for college.” She stops, hesitating, but Schwoopsie remained silent to encourage her. “I didn’t want to go to college at all, really, but my mom forced me to at least apply to a couple of nearby places.”

“Not at all? Were you ready to go into a trade after high school?”

“Well, I mean, when I was younger, I wanted to…” She sighs running a hand through her hair. “But… something happened that turned me off of the idea.”

“A turn off, huh? What was it, seeing your grandma naked?” Zazzalil shoots her a look that said _not a joking subject,_ along with some things Schwoopsie can’t decipher, and she puts her hands up in surrender. “Dropping the subject, dropping the subject!”

“So, you got a little bit about me, the Oregon girl.” The brunette shifts her position, leaning more towards the blonde on the ground. “How about you tell me a bit about yourself?”

Schwoopsie sighs, moving to mirror Zazzalil’s body language. “Yeah, I’ll bite. I’m from Minnesota, my parents have only known I’m a girl for about six months, and I like making people laugh.”

Zazz nods, and she can see another decision going on behind her eyes. Eventually, she clears her throat. “Well… I’m, uh, I’m gay.”

“Nice, nice. I consider myself bisexual right now, but that can and might change.”

The two girls smile at each other, and this time Schwoopsie decides to tell her something. “Y’know, when I dated Jemilla, she told me that she has a preference for girls.”

Zazz’s eyes grow wide, and she leans back, averting her gaze. “Why, uh… why would you think I need to know that? About my… a classmate, I mean.” She notes the avoidance of the word “friend.”

“Oh, you’ll need the information, don’t worry.” Schwoopsie shoves Zazzalil in the shoulder, moving her quite a bit.

“Schwoopsie, I don’t think I--” Zazzalil’s gaze travels, and she stops mid sentence. Her face pales, and her breath comes in quick and shallow gasps.

Schwoopsie’s brows furrow, looking at her friend in concern. “Zazzalil? Are y--”

 

“I have to go.” The small brunette is up and running before the words process in her head. 

Schwoopsie’s curiosity got the better of her, and she turns around to scan where Zazzalil had been staring. She sees a small brunette with her hair in a bun, staring at the spot near Schwoopsie which Zazzalil recently abandoned. The girl was pretty far away, so Schwoopsie couldn’t make out her face to see what she was feeling, but the blonde tried to memorise everything she could about her. 

Something happened to Zazzalil, and this girl has something to do with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon.


	11. Wednesday (iii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I messed up your shirt…”
> 
> “It’s just a shirt, Zazz; I can change it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to end the day before moving on, y'all, I'm sorry.

“Keeri, Keeri, she _saw_ me, she knows I’m _here_ , oh god, oh fuck-”

“Zazz?” Keeri stands up from where she was on her bed, rushing over to the this-side-of-panicking brunette in the doorway. “Hey, Zazz, breathe. Can I touch you?”

Zazz gives a shaky nod, and Keeri envelops her in her arms, guiding her into the room and shutting the door. She sits them down on her bed, stroking her hair and making soothing noises as the smaller girl calms down.

The sniffles stop eventually, and Keeri looks down at the brunette firmly avoiding her gaze. “I messed up your shirt…”

“It’s just a shirt, Zazz; I can change it.” She smiles softly. “Are you feeling better now?”

“I- I think so.” 

The pair is silent for a while, Keeri still holding onto Zazz. Then, “I think I want to tell them.”

“Who?”

“Not everyone, not yet, but… Jemilla and Schwoopsie, I think.” 

Keeri nods. “Yeah, okay. I have a biology with Schwoopsie in the morning, if it comes up…”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

 

Another moment of silence. “I’m tired.”

With the way Zazz tightens her grip on her, Keeri understands. “Let’s go to sleep, then.”

They lie down together, Keeri still holding onto Zazz. As they drift off to sleep, she hears Zazz mumble. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And she does. _So much_. But she doesn’t love her in _that_ way, and she respects that. So, she resigns herself to this night, of holding her best friend, knowing that there was no other meaning than a friend comforting a friend. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zazz was not asleep. She wasn’t panicking, yes, but she wasn’t asleep. Small memories, not of _that_ , but of before, were playing in her head. Twinkling laughter, warm hands, soft lips… tears in brown eyes, guilt building… 

Careful not to disturb her friend, she grabs her right wrist, remembering the itchy cast.

Life was going so well… it’s her fault, he was looking at _her_ instead of-- instead of…

Silent tears soak into the mattress, and Zazzalil falls asleep with old memories and more recent guilt at the front of her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm liking what y'all're saying in the comments, and I will give you this: some of it aligns with my plans.


	12. Thursday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What? No, I haven’t seen Chorn since English the other day; it was Zazz.”
> 
> A cheshire-like grin begins to grow on Schwoopsie’s face. “Oh, _really?_ I would have bet money that Zazzalazz was gonna sleep with Jemilla…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, the amount of feedback I've gotten from this fic is astounding, I can't believe y'all like this enough to comment about it! I'm so grateful for everyone who's stuck with me.

Keeri walks into biology and mentally curses when she sees her sitting in the back. They make brief eye contact, but Keeri moves on quickly and slides into her seat next to Schwoopsie, who’s on her phone. “Hey, Schwoops.”

“Hey, Keeri.” She looks up, only just taking in her friend. “Woah, rough night?”

She runs a hand through her loose, unbrushed hair. “You could say that…” 

“Ooh, who was it? A guy? A girl? Someone else?” She gasps, really getting into it. “Oh, was it Chorn? The bastard didn’t come back to our room last night--”

“What? No, I haven’t seen Chorn since English the other day; it was Zazz.”

A cheshire-like grin begins to grow on Schwoopsie’s face. “Oh, _really?_ I would have bet money that Zazzalazz was gonna sleep with Jemilla…”

A small bit of panic lines her response. “Oh, no, not like _that_ , Zazz and I are just friends.” She can’t stop the trickle of melancholy in her final words, but she shakes it off quickly. “She just had trouble sleeping last night, like she used to…” She starts to play with a strand of her hair. “I, um, moved to Hatchetfield in fifth grade, and from pretty much the moment I moved we’ve been as close as close can be.”

“Oh, yeah, Zazzalil mentioned that she grew up near here.” Keeri gives her a look of confusion. “We hung out on the lake quad yesterday after class. Speaking of,” she adds, “She ran off after she noticed someone, I think I saw her walk in…”

“No, don’t look!” Keeri grabs Schwoopsie’s arms, making her look her in the eyes. “Yes, she’s in this class.” She glances at the clock, noting how much time she has before class starts. “That girl? She and Zazz have… a complicated past.”

“What, like a bad break up?”

She makes an _eh, close_ motion with her head. “A little more complicated than that…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 **Zazzalazz:** _are you sure youre coming_

 **Jmills:** _Yes, Zazzalil, I’m almost out of the line._

Zazzalil takes a deep breath, steadying herself. She’s gonna do it. She’s telling someone about this. She can’t predict her reaction, but she _can_ try to remain calm.

No, not calm. “Calm” and “not panicking” are two different things. 

The clatter of a tray brings her back to reality, and Zazz looks up to find Jemilla sitting down across from her. “Hey, you wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did, I do,” She looks around, suddenly aware of how very close everyone is. They’re sitting at the edge of the table, in a corner, but this story is too important, too personal… “... Not here.”

Without another word, Zazz grabs Jemilla’s hand and pulls her up, making a beeline to a door. She ignores the confused noises of the taller girl and the handful of wolf whistles some unruly guys make, just scanning for a quieter spot.

Eventually, she slows, pulling Jemilla into a small closet and shutting the door. She takes a deep breath, steadying her mind and preparing her story.

“Uh, Zazzalil?” She looks up, noticing Jemilla gesturing at their still connected hands. Startled, she lets go, immediately missing the contact (why? She’s not even a… no, she might be a friend…). “So, why did we have to go into a janitor’s closet to talk?”

“You know how I panicked a couple of days ago?”

Jemilla nods.

“I- Well, it was because of something-- some _one_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, y'all hate me now.
> 
> Next chapter is gonna break from the normal format, and y'all can guess why, probably.


	13. Hatchetfield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small towns unintentionally garner many close connections, and those connections happen early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Hey hey I'm back and with no explanation for this whirlwind
> 
> Some notes for y'all: as per "Chorn Is...," Zazz's real name is Elizabeth and Keeri's is Carrie. remember, this is a big ol' au world, and I'm the only one making the rules.
> 
> Many many thanks to odetolava for beta-ing this mess and helping me bring this to you!

Hatchetfield was a small town, but that was good; you knew everybody, and everyone knew you, making it relatively safe. Small towns unintentionally garner many close connections, and those connections happen early.

On her first day of kindergarten, Elizabeth Cabrera met Emma Perkins, a first grader, and they became fast friends. The two girls did everything together, from homework to extracurriculars. 

In fifth grade, another girl, Carrie Foster, came into the picture, and became friends with Elizabeth, but not Emma. Lizzy started doing some projects with the new girl, then started going to her house for homework, and even took dance lessons with her.

Emma was jealous. She said as much one day, tears streaming down her face, and her best friend realized just how much she’d ignored her. The two girls promised they’d always make time for each other.

Middle school came, and so did puberty. With puberty came health class, new body dimensions, and realizations. One such realization came for Liz when Emma walked into her room, so excited to _finally_ be allowed to wear makeup, and Jane had given her little lessons, and she wanted to practice on Liz before she tried it on herself, and even as Liz agreed, her brain would only say _oh. Girls._

They shared their first kiss in tenth grade, shushing each other in Emma’s room so they wouldn’t get caught. When they walked into school hand in hand, Carrie gave the couple a small smile and an encouraging nod, giving Liz a burst of happiness she wasn’t expecting.

News travels fast in a small town, and Liz wanted to tell her parents before the grapevine got to them. She was out with her dad one night, doing some last minute birthday shopping for her mom. Finally, there was a lapse in the conversation. 

“Dad, I like girls.”

He turned to look at her, smiling softly and taking a hand off the wheel to hold hers. “So do I, Lizzy. Why else would I be married to your mother?”

At that, she smiled, tears starting to form in her eyes. “You’re not mad?”

“Why should I be? If being with a girl makes you happy, you should be with a girl.”

They smiled at each other as a red light washed over the car. Liz only had enough time to register that red light was not good before the screeching of tires and the sound of glass breaking overtook her senses.

When she came to, she could only stare. The red car was a crumpled mess, and there was a horn blaring from somewhere. She fumbled for her phone, shakily dialing 911 on the cracked screen. “I’m in an accident. A-a car crash… Yes, I’m in one of them… Corner of… Broadway and Chestnut, I think… Me? Passenger seat, my dad… Oh god, my dad… Yes, please…”

The operator kept talking to her, keeping her there, asking about her surroundings. “My wrist hurts to move… yeah, it’s red… a sedan, I think… Oh, fuck, that’s… that’s _Jane’s_ car, god, that’s Jane’s car, fuck, Emma’s gonna kill me… Emma? She’s my girlfriend… she _was_ my girlfriend… No, she won’t want to be with me anymore. Jane’s her sister, we just crashed into her car, who would want to be with the girl who ruined your sister’s car?” 

The ambulance arrived around then, and paramedics helped get her and her father out of their wreck. Another group pulled a woman from the red sedan, and her stomach clenched as she immediately recognized the spitting image of Emma, ten years older. 

Her attention was pulled from the other body as she noticed the group surrounding her father. “Wait, what’s happening? Is he okay?” One of them left the group and went to her, assessing her while trying to avoid her questions. “Hey, answer me-- ow, don’t touch it like tha- is my dad okay? What’re you doing to him?”

“Your stomach’s all sliced up, and your wrist might be broken… The others are looking after your dad and Jane, they need more attention than you.”

A sudden quiet grew around her father, and the group of paramedics began cleaning up the equipment around him. “Is he okay? Does that mean he’s okay? Dad??? _Dad???_ ”

She doesn’t remember much about the funeral; she focused on her cast instead. It itched and was a stupid color. Bright red - she ignores that it’s the same red that washed over them before… 

Emma hadn’t spoken to her since she got the news. Liz hadn’t tried to talk to her, though; she didn’t try to talk to anyone for a while. Carrie had to break the lock on her window to even see her, and that visit ended in tears and sore throats. 

She thought she saw Emma at the funeral, but the next time she looked nothing was there. She couldn’t build up the courage to go to Jane’s funeral with her mom.

At night, she didn’t sleep; her brain was too busy finding places to stick the blame. _It’s your fault he wasn’t watching the road. It’s your fault he was focused on you. It’s your fault your girlfriend’s sister is dead. It’s your fault your girlfriend isn’t talking to you. It’s your fault, It’s your fault, It’s **your** fault, **It’s your fault.**_

She didn’t go to school for a week, moving too much would have ruined the stitches in her stomach, but when she next walked into the building, she was immediately bombarded with half-hidden whispers. 

“... neck snapped on impact…”

“... no way to salvage them…”

“... broke a lamp in their fight…”

“... getting a GED in Guatemala…”

For the rest of high school, she only talked to Carrie. It took months of conversation to even consider applying to any colleges. She went to Starkid College, the community college over in Clivesdale ( _fuck_ Clivesdale, but Hatchetfield was too small for a college of its own). Her freshman year roommate was a short girl named Emberly, who only called her “Zazzalil.” Eventually, the name stuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... So?


	14. Thursday (ii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chorn is an observer by nature; details are easily noticed when staying quiet is a preference. At this point, it’s quite easy to know which details are important, and which are not. Gender and pronouns? Necessary for some who prefer it (Schwoopsie needs these details to feel like herself), unnecessary for everyone else (Chorn).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, many thanks to odetolava for being an awesome beta!

“I don’t like people using my real name anymore, really, because she gave me all of my nicknames beforehand.” Zazzalil looks down at her hands, fingers playing together, as Jemilla processes what she just heard.

That’s… certainly a tumultuous past… 

She holds her tongue, watching the smaller girl. Her eyes burn a hole in the ground at their feet, and she scratches her right wrist. Unconsciously, Jemilla takes a step, shortening the distance between them.

“Well,” Zazzalil looks up at the sound of her voice, “I guess we’ll have to make some new nicknames for you.”

Her eyes are unreadable, a million different emotions flitting across them in the span of a moment. Eventually, she speaks, barely above a whisper. “I guess so.”

They’re silent, still and breathing quietly, and Jemilla thinks she almost sees Zazzalil start to lean forward--

Her phone goes off, startling them and breaking the moment (What moment? There was no moment, nope, not at all) and making them realize just how close they were. Jemilla clears her throat while pulling her phone out, answering the call with a swipe. “Hey, Schwoopsie? What--”

“Jemilla! Where are you? Class is in two minutes!”

Oh. 

“ _FUCK A DUCK!_ ” She hangs up, already in half of a panic and remembering that her bag is still in the dining hall, _fuck_ \--

“Um…” 

Oh, right.

“Zazzalil, come on, we’re late for English, Peeksar isn’t close, we left our bags in--”

“Wait, what?? Shit!” With no other words, Zazz slips out of the closet and breaks into a sprint, Jemilla not far behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chorn is an observer by nature; details are easily noticed when staying quiet is a preference. At this point, it’s quite easy to know which details are important, and which are not. Gender and pronouns? Necessary for some who prefer it (Schwoopsie needs these details to feel like herself), unnecessary for everyone else (Chorn). Idiosyncrasies and preferences are helpful for birthday gifts (SB got a frisbee for his birthday) and the delegation of jobs in group projects (Don’t let Ducker speak or he will bring up the Duck), and personalities help when deciding who to hang out with (The Tribe of Misfits) or avoid (Whoever causes Zazzalil to panic).

Body language is the most fun. One finger encourages, another one agitates. Leaning forwards or backwards indicates many things, and the direction toes point signifies conversational interest.

So, when Jemilla and Zazzalil burst through the door of English 201 together, red-faced, panting, four minutes and thirty-three seconds late, and acting more friendly than they used to, Chorn ignores everything else (like the fucker three seats down who won’t stop popping his gum) and watches them explain their tardiness.

“And why the fuck am I supposed to care about how late you two are?” Molag crosses her arms and furrows her brow slightly (annoyance, but not as severe as it should be), sitting on the desk again. 

The two girls look at each other, panic clearly written on their faces (trying to decide if the truth or a lie is better). Quickly, Zazzalil starts. “We had to run across campus, our bags were…”

“Were up in a tree!” Jemilla jumps in, glancing at Zazzalil (a partial truth, with some of a lie). “Just when we got them down, my friend called me to ask where I was…”

“And- and now we’re, uh, here.” Zazzalil lamely finishes, lowering her eyes (embarrassment).

Molag grunts (unconvinced), but waves them in. “Sit down, ya fucks, you interrupted my plans.”

They two girls smile and rush to their seats (relief), sharing a look. Jemilla’s back was facing Chorn, but Zazzalil gave her a soft smile (Friendship, possible attraction, a secret kept successfully, there’s a lot that could be said about a smile) before facing the front.

The fucker popped his gum again, reminding Chorn to refocus on the whole room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chorn's fun to write


	15. Thursday (iii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That was…”
> 
> “Yeah.”
> 
> “We should go eat…”
> 
> “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters have been shorter because I may or may not be running out of ideas.

Zazz hangs back after class ends, and Keeri stands by her seat while almost everyone else rushes out. She notices Jemilla and Schwoopsie give the pair concerned looks, but she smiles and shoos them out of the room.

“Your next class isn’t until late afternoon,” she says, breaking the silence, “and it’s been long enough that I think we’ll avoid her.”

“Avoid who?” The pair jump, noticing Molag still in the room for the first time. “You got bad blood with someone?”

Zazz looks uncomfortable. “That’s one way of putting it…”

The older woman nods. “I had bad blood with someone in my squad. Peterson. He was a dick of a man, disagreed with every damn word out of my mouth. We’d butt heads more often than leave the barracks, which was a lot, and it didn’t help that where we were was really inactive.”

The younger girls share a look as Molag talks, torn between _why is she telling us about this guy_ and _should we leave??_

“I gave up on trying to get along with Peterson, and went up to my CO to talk about him. Y’know what she told me?” Molag looks at Keeri and Zazz, who shake their heads. “She told me to get my head out of my ass and tell him straight up why I had a problem with him. That night I cornered him outside the mess hall, and we had a long talk about our attitudes towards each other.”

She stands up, grabbing her cane from where it leans against the desk, and moves towards the door. “Turns out that he was a homeschooled conservative guy who had never met a liberal before in his life, let alone a black Jewish lady, and insulting me was the only way he could think of engaging me in conversation and learning about how I think.”

She’s almost at the door when Zazz asks a question, surprising Keeri. “What happened after that conversation?”

“Well, I got shot in the leg the next day during a firefest and discharged shortly after, but as far as I know he’s still fighting somewhere.” With that, she leaves.

Zazz and Keeri sit there for a while afterwards, processing. 

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

“We should go eat…”

“Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Tribe of Misfits**

**Jmills:** _Alright, we need to get together this weekend to finish this english assignment. What time works best for everyone?_

 **Zazzalazz:** _keeri and i can do whenever_

 **DuckisLord:** _SB and Chorn have crew until 9 both days but otherwise they’re free_

 **DuckisLord:** _Tib and I have a ceremony at sunset (around 8)_

 **Firely:** _I’m helping a new friend catch up in the morning, but I’m free in the afternoon_

 **BaDumTss:** _this is sounding a lot like were meetin up after lunch sat_

 **Jmills:** _I agree. Does meeting after lunch work for everyone?_

 **Tibulyn:** _That sounds good_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _yeah_

 **IAmChorn:** _sure_

 **SmellThemBro:** _hell yeah!_

 **Jmills:** _Okay, after lunch on Lake Quad Saturday._

 **Zazzalazz:** _nice nice_

 **Zazzalazz:** _ugh I have class soon_

 **Zazzalazz:** _wish me luck_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I love reading comments about this fic, and y'all speculating and saying what you want to see/think would be cool to see help me move the fic along, especially since this is some sorta burn and I need buffer before the inevitable


	16. Thursday (iv)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plush duck’s bead eyes stare vacantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoink I'm back and ready to get this plot ball rolling

Ducker rushes to the door of Tiblyn’s room, finds it already open and barges in without knocking. “I’m sorry, SB and I got into an intense round of Mario Kart, I lost track of time-”

“Ducker, it’s fine; the sun’s barely started to set.” Tiblyn stands up from her desk, taking the book from his hands as he settles in. “The Duck will understand if we’re a couple minutes later than normal.”

He takes a breath, nodding. “Still…”

Tiblyn smiles at him, holding the book out to him again. “Let us begin?”

He returns a soft smile, taking the book happily. He loves leading the prayers. He also loves wearing the ceremonial hats; speaking of, he pulls one out from his bag and places it on his head, immediately standing straighter (ha). Before anything else, he takes a plush duck (Target; a college student’s haven) and places it carefully on Tiblyn’s bed.

He opens the book to the proper page and turns to Tiblyn, already holding the lighters. “Let us begin.”

Tiblyn opens the window and sticks her hands out, flicking the lighters on as she does. (Traditionally the lighters would be torches and she would hold them straight up into the air, but after setting the fire alarm off seven and a half times they both agreed that modifying the ceremony to adjust to the circumstances was better than being expelled.) Ducker pulls his tambourine out and begins shaking it, slapping it against his thigh at seemingly random times. 

He begins humming, speak-singing “Duck!” as he hits the tambourine. He hears Tiblyn begin humming a harmony, swaying her hands slightly. The “Duck!”s become more frequent, and their volume increases, until he suddenly stops all motion and noise, Tiblyn quickly stilling as well.

Out of nowhere, Ducker drops onto his knees, creating a resounding _thud_. He bows his head as he begins to speak, hat somehow staying on. “Oh, merciful Duck, we humble ourselves before you, and offer you a clean and pleasing worship.”

The plush duck sits there.

“Oh, generous Duck,” Tiblyn continues, “grant us your wisdom such that we may teach others of your ways.”

The plush duck’s bead eyes stare vacantly.

“Oh, wise and beautiful Duck, let your wings spread above us tonight, so as we may sleep in safety,” Ducker finishes the prayer.

The plush duck doesn’t move.

Tiblyn lets the lighters die and comes back into the room, closing the window. “Today was good, for me. What about you?”

Ducker shrugs. “So-so. Jemilla came to me during lunch and looked distressed, but she wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.”

“Really? Do you think it has something to do with why she and Zazzalil were late to english?” She sits on her bed, picking up the plush duck and holding it gently in her lap.

“I’m not sure. I assumed it was a crush thing, but she normally spills that shit the first chance she gets.” He sighs, pulling the hat off. “SB couldn’t get her to spill either; they think it might be something else.”

Tiblyn tilts her head. “Huh. Well, whatever it is, let’s hope the Duck can help her figure it out.”

“We can only hope.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Schwoopsie jumps when she hears a bag thud on her floor. She spins around to see her roommate already climbing into bed, red hair disappearing under the blankets.

“Man, I still don’t understand how you have so many blankets; it’s hot as balls out!” She stares in wonder as Chorn raises a hand and grunts the exclamation off. Giving up, Schwoopsie turns back around and reopens her textbook.

She tries to focus on learning about plant cells, but her mind keeps wandering back to what Keeri told her about Hatchetfield. _Zazzy needs some serious therapy…_

A smile begins to grow on her face. _Oooooooooor, she just needs a confidante who wasn’t there!_

The real question is whether it should be her, or Jemilla. The two girls like each other, Schwoopsie can tell (and she can and does ignore how she feels about that; her and Milla are in the past), so it would make sense that those two should talk about the problem. 

However, Jemilla might not be the best person to open up to for advice; she’ll listen, yes, but she’s not an active audience. Her advice is shitty, too; she once told SB that the only way to get a good grade is to beg at the teacher’s feet, and he took it (Professor Snape only called him “Mister Groveller” for the rest of the term). What Zazzy needs is a pair of ears that will tell her exactly how much of an idiot she’s being.

Schwoopsie needs to be that confidante. If she can get this girl to open up about Emma and the crash, then she can knock some sense into her.

Plus, it’ll make Jemilla jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive got a couple of plans now, i needed a brainstorm session to sort out my ideas (odetolava knows)


	17. Thursday (v)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sighs. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what you need.”
> 
> At least her breathing is regular?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry in advance

Zazzalil’s phone buzzes, stopping her in the stairwell of her dorm. Curious as to who would text her at eight pm, she pulls it out.

 **(UNKNOWN):** _is this Elizabeth Cabrera?_

Her eyes widen, brain already racing, guessing who texted her. She responds before she can think, feet rooted to the cement landing she’s on.

 **Zazzalazz:** _im usually called zazzalil now but yeah_

 **Zazzalazz:** _whos this_

_Don’t be her don’t be her don’t be her_

The three dots appear, disappear, reappear, disappear, and Zazz almost screams in frustration. She refrains from doing so when a couple of girls walk past her to their rooms.

Finally, a response comes.

 **(UNKNOWN):** _it’s Emma._

 **(UNKNOWN):** _Perkins._

 **(UNKNOWN):** _i’m Emma Perkins._

 **(UNKNOWN):** _wait why am i saying it like this you definitely know me_

 **(UNKNOWN):** _hello?_

Zazz catches herself and her phone as it tries to slip from her slack grip. Refusing to think, she forces herself to move up the stairs, making it to her room in record time. 

Slamming her door, she’s halfway through her explanation of what just happened before she realizes the room is empty. She barely registers it, however, but closes her door so that she can speak her thoughts out loud. “Emma is texting me. _Emma_ is texting _me_. She… she is contacting me. Oh, my God, she’s _contacting_ me! What the fuck?? Wait, shit, I still haven’t responded…”

 **Zazzalazz:** _hey em_

 **Zazzalazz:** _uh_

 **Zazzalazz:** _is there a_

 **Zazzalazz:** _why did_

 **Zazzalazz:** _hey_

“You idiot, you must sound like a fuckwad, she must be wondering if I got brain damage from…” Zazzalil ignores her idiotic texts to add Emma to her contacts. As she finishes up, she gets another text.

 **DeeriKeeri:** _sorry, i had to talk to my dance coach, i’ll be back soon_

 **Zazzalazz:** _ok_

Emma responds.

 **Em:** _hey yourself_

 **Em:** _what’s happened to you since we last saw each other?_

 **Zazzalazz:** _well i somehow graduated high school_

 **Zazzalazz:** _now i go here_

“Could you be any more vague, Zazz?” She clenches her jaw, brows furrowed. “Dammit… I should stop… but she’s talking to me…”

 **Em:** _cool story, i guess?_

 **Em:** _i was ready to go on and on about Guatemala for you_

 **Em:** _but i guess if you don’t want to speak to me that’s fine_

 **Zazzalazz:** _wait no_

 **Zazzalazz:** _nonono i do_

 **Zazzalazz:** _i do want to talk_

 **Zazzalazz:** _im just bad at this shit_

 **Zazzalazz:** _you know im bad at this shit_

When no response comes in the moments that follow, her mind jumps to conclusions. “Shit, shit, shit, she must hate me! Dammit!” In a burst of self-loathing, she **_y e e t s_** her phone across the room, ignoring the crash that follows, along with the buzzing of incoming messages. 

Eyes filled with tears, she lays down over her covers and doesn’t move. Fully-clothed, she stares at her wall and refuses to react when Keeri comes in. “I’m really sorry, Sherezade asked me som-- Zazz?”

Her friend shakes her shoulder, but she shrugs her off. She hears the blonde patter across the room and guesses that the noises following are her examining her phone. “Oh, Zazz…” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keeri knows Zazz’s password -- it’s been the same since senior year -- and quickly puts it in, squinting to read anything on the cracked screen.

 **Em:** _yeah, i know_

 **Em:** _so i was thinking we could meet up sometime this weekend? we could catch up, talk…_

 **Em:** _Liz?_

 **Em:** _sorry- Zazzalil?_

Opening the contact page, Keeri quickly shoots Emma a text on her own phone.

 **DeeriKeeri:** _this is carrie foster (though i go by keeri now). zazz dropped her phone in the stairwell, the screen broke pretty badly, it’s not safe to type on_

 **Em:** _oh, okay_

 **Em:** _can you pass on the message that i want to meet up this weekend?_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _yeah, totally_

Keeri looks up at Zazz, who hasn’t moved, her concern only growing. After a minute, she texts Emma again.

 **DeeriKeeri:** _sorry, she’s busy._

 **Em:** _oh._

 **Em:** _okay. i’ll be in touch once she gets her new screen, ok?_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _i’ll let her know._

Putting both phones down, she makes a note to herself about telling the other chat about the broken screen before moving back over to her friend. “Zazz, I know what happened; do you want to talk?”

No response. Not even physical movement to show she heard.

She sighs. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what you need.”

At least her breathing is regular?

“Fine, then.” With great annoyance, Keeri moves back to her side and pulls out some homework, angrily filling out the cell diagrams and glancing at Zazz occasionally (she still hasn’t moved).

When nine o’clock rolls around, Keeri sighs and climbs into her own bed. She takes one last look at her roommate, fearing for the morning, and sets her alarm a little earlier than normal before drifting off to fitful dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be a small break from the normal format, but not a flashback.


	18. Friday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She ignores the layers, takes the smile for a smile and continues to Gotham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like I said, this chapter is a small break from the normal format.

Jemilla keeps glancing at the clock well after Lupin begins talking. 8:15, 8:37… where is she?

Her phone quietly buzzes in her pocket, and she discreetly slips it out.

 **DeeriKeeri:** _zazz is having a bad day; emma contacted her, she didn’t take it well. can you stop by with notes?_

 **Jmills:** _Yeah, definitely. Where’s your room?_

 **DeeriKeeri:** _303, in gotham. thank you so much, i’ll let you focus again!_

Jemilla puts her phone away, redoubling her note-taking in an effort not to dwell on the reason Zazzalil is missing class. If she can help in any small way…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Schwoopsie bumps into Jemilla in Lake Quad. “Oh, Milla! Didya hear about --”

“Yeah, Keeri asked me to bring her notes.” She looks nervous. “Did anyone, uhm, tell you about --”

“Hatchetfield?” Jemilla nods. “Keeri said that’s the cause of it all. I was heading over before my class; wanna go together?”

Jemilla smiles, but Schwoopsie can see it’s strained. Worry, concern… something else.

She ignores the layers, takes the smile for a smile and continues to Gotham.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SB actually takes notes for the first time in his life, but they aren’t for him; Ducker’s notes are always unreliable and in a shorthand code only a select few (Ducker, Jemilla and SB) can read, while Tiblyn’s handwriting is illegible, even to herself (“Sometimes I wonder why I even take notes if I can’t read them”).

SB doesn’t really know Zazzalil that well yet (not for lack of trying, since Jemilla’s so smitten), but when she does open up, she’s funny as hell, and incredibly protective of Keeri. That gives her a step up, in their book.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The end of Theology is quieter than normal between the three friends. Ducker double-checks the notes SB took, gathering them up for Jemilla to deliver as Tiblyn says her farewells and hurries to her next class.

After she leaves, Ducker sighs and rubs his face. He feels a familiar arm over his shoulders, and he sighs again, for a different reason. “What’s our theory? All we know is that her phone broke in the stairwell.”

SB tilts his head. “I think there’s more than just a phone dropping, if she skipped her classes… Chorn can get like that, I think it’s a depressing… uh…”

“Huh.” He tilts his head. “We can stop by her room later, give her our wishes.”

“Hell yeah!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tiblyn gets to the classroom a little early, immediately heading to Professor Diggory. “Hey, um, my friend is feeling down, would it be any trouble if me and my friends stay after class ends to make her something?”

He gave her his patented grin, nodding. “Anytime you need to do some quick baking, if I don’t have a class, feel free!”

She thanks him and heads over to Emberly and Keeri. “So, since Zazzalil’s not feeling nice, I was thinking we could make her something…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emberly pulls the last tray of cookies out of the oven, looking over the three girls’ work. “I think we’re done!” The cookies are wrapped up and handed to Keeri. “Give her these, and our well-wishes.”

Keeri smiles halfheartedly, taking the cookies. “Thank you, Emberly, Tiblyn. As much as you’re helping Zazz… this is helping me, too.” And it is; Keeri’s shoulders are looser, and she isn’t fidgeting as much.

Emberly smiles right back. “Anything for friends!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chorn realizes there’s something on SB’s mind the minute he walks onto the dock for crew practice. Their brow is furrowed, but in a different way than normal.

“You’re worried about Zazzalil.” It’s not a question. 

He chuckles. “Yeah; I think she might have that thing you have, the depressor things?”

“Depressive episodes.” Maybe… Something to look out for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keeri opens the door to her room tentatively, observing. Nothing much has changed since she left; a small pile of the notes Jemilla’s been dropping off, a plush duck that Ducker sent, and new rumples in the blankets covering her roommate.

“Zazz, I’m back.” A grunt; improvement. “Sorry I’m late, but Tiblyn and Emberly made some cookies for you.”

She doesn’t respond, but the blankets rustle. Taking it as a sign, Keeri walks over and puts the cookies within arm’s reach of the lump. 

“How are you holding up?”

She’s not taking a nonverbal response as an answer, and Zazz knows this. Slowly, the rustling increases, revealing Zazzalil to Keeri’s eyes for the first time since last night. Her hair was more of a mess than normal, with the bags under her eyes deeper. She’s still in yesterday’s clothes, and her expression makes Keeri think that she hasn’t slept.

“I’m still alive, so that’s a minus.” Her voice is scratchy; she hasn’t touched the snacks or water left for her. 

Keeri sighs. “Zazz…”

“Keeri, I’m _fi_ ne--” her voice crack says otherwise, and Keeri gives her an _I’m not buying it_ look. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And you don’t have to, on one condition.” Keeri crosses her arms. “You have to come to the study session after lunch tomorrow. You get to do nothing until then,” she continues over Zazz’s groan, “but you _have_ to go to that. You don’t need to get dressed, or interact at all if you don’t want to; I’ll even tell everyone to back off if you need it.”

Flat on her back, Zazz lets out one last sigh. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who else loves supportive friends


	19. Saturday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s… damn.”
> 
> “Yeah, I know, right? Boys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to normal!

Zazz lags behind Keeri as they walk towards Lake Quad, holding onto a plush duck that showed up in her room yesterday. Approaching a turn, she stops, scratching her right wrist. 

Keeri must have noticed, as she turns to face her friend. “Zazz, you promised-”

“I know! I’m coming, I just-” She looks at the corner of the building obscuring her from the rest of the group. “I need a minute to prepare. You go on ahead, I’ll follow.”

Keeri looks doubtful, but a small flash of puppy eyes gets her to crack. “Okay. No more than five minutes, or I’m coming back.” With that, she turns the corner.

Zazz sighs, leaning against the wall and sliding down. Hugging the duck to her chest, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Woah, the breakup must have been _terrible_.” Starting, Zazz looks up at whoever just snuck up on her. She is greeted by someone who dresses in an exclusively lesbian way, with both a flannel _and_ a hoodie tied around her waist. Her black hair is covered in a beanie, and her eyes and posture can only mean that she’s higher than a kite. “What? Messy, two-day-old outfit, obvious tear marks, no regard for personal hygiene, and letting your friend go before you: you were dragged from your room from either a depression low, a breakup, or both.”

“I…” Zazz clears her throat. “It was a while ago…”

The stranger tilts her head. “So, depression low, triggered by something connected to an old break-up.” 

“How do you-- where are you getting this information?” She holds the duck tighter.

“I’m very observant. Used to be a detective, with my friends in Mayberry.” The girl scratches the bridge of her nose, sorta like she went to push up glasses. “Anyways, you’re going to meet up with your friends, so I won’t keep you. Just,” wow, this girl likes to talk, “it’s easier to deal with shit if you tell people. My friend, Scrags, his dog was killed in middle school, and he refused to open up to anyone about it, and that’s why our friend group drifted apart.”

“That’s… damn.”

“Yeah, I know, right? Boys.”

Zazz laughs. “I’m glad I don’t have to date them.”

The girl smiles. “Me neither.” With that, she gives her a two-fingered salute and wanders off.

With the traces of a smile remaining, Zazz stands up, turning the corner to join the study group.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No way, you met _Esther_?!” Jemilla winces at SB’s volume. 

Zazzalil furrows her brow, leading Ducker to explain. “Esther Backpack-Blueglasses? Like _the_ Esther, from whom Esthering classes comes from?”

After a moment, Zazzalil’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit, I met a cryptid?!?”

Jemilla can’t help but laugh, earning her a glare and a shove from the smaller girl. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t the reaction I expected.”

The group (Jemilla refuses to call them the “Tribe of Misfits,” or whatever SB is naming them) is sitting in a circle, clumped together in places: SB, Ducker and Chorn are their own threesome (SB is almost laying down on the other two), while Tiblyn and Emberly sit on Chorn’s other side, with Schwoopsie and Keeri next to them, leaving Zazzalil and Jemilla to sit together.

Zazzalil suddenly seems to notice everyone staring at her, and she looks down. Noticing her discomfort, Jemilla clears her throat. “Speaking of unexpected events, Emberly?” She waits for Emberly to look at her before continuing “You mentioned helping a new friend on the group chat; would you care to elaborate?”

Tiblyn smiles. “Oh, and it’s not just _any_ new friend; it’s a _guy!_ ”

The short girl blushes as the group dissolves into teasing, homework and all pretenses of studying forgotten.

“It’s not like that, guys!” Emberly’s voice breaks through, and she continues over the _not yet, anyway_ from Schwoopsie. “Grunt missed the first day, and Diggory is prone to pop quizzes about some arm motion he made a month ago, and I didn’t want him to fail because of that.”

“So it’s _not_ because he’s hot?” Ducker, surprisingly, nags about it.

“ _No!_ ” Her face is burning, but the finality in her tone is commanding.

“Ducker…” He shuts up at the threatening tone in Jem’s voice. Glad that he shut up, she looks around the group. “Really, though, how has everyone been?”

“Jemilla, you saw most of us yesterday.” Schwoopsie butts in. “You sometimes know what we’re doing before we do.”

“I’m not asking for myself!” 

“Uh huh, and _who_ are you asking for, then?”

Jemilla fights back a blush. “I’m asking for those who _don’t_ know everyone’s schedule already. And I don’t know _everyone’s_ schedule; I wasn’t friends with Keeri and Zazzalil before this year.”

She sees Zazzalil start at the use of her name ( _was she zoning out? Why didn’t I notice?_ ). She was going to turn and ask if she was okay, but Keeri clears her throat. “Well, if you really wanted to know my schedule so badly, you could have just asked.”

“And Zazzy’s, don’t forget hers!” Schwoopsie adds, sending a small grin to Jemilla.

“Alright, okay…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all have been waiting for this character for a while


	20. Saturday (ii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zazz consoles them both. “Hey, it’s Schwoopsie. Can she hurt me?”
> 
> Keeri lowers her shoulders and nods, but Jemilla’s still unconvinced, making Schwoopsie think her plan is working. To soothe her friend, she puts a hand over her heart. “I won’t make Razzle-Zazzle talk about anything she doesn’t want to. Scout’s honor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I wasn't dead

After Tiblyn and Ducker leave for their cult thing (“It’s _not_ a cult, it’s a _religion_ ”) the rest of the Tribe starts splitting off. Schwoopsie remains seated (well, she’s lying down at this point) until it’s just her, Zazzy, Jem, and Keeri. 

“Well,” Keeri begins, “we better get going, right Zazz?” The brunette nods, beginning to gather her stuff.

“Actually, Lilliazz, I wanted to talk to you.” Schwoopsie ignores the curious looks from Jemilla and Keeri, locking eyes with Zazzy. “You don’t have to if you’re not up for it--”

“No-- I mean,” Zazz interrupts, “Well, don’t call me that -- Lilliazz, that makes no sense -- but also, I can do that- I’d be okay to stay.” She puts her stuff back down. 

Keeri and Jemilla both interject their opinions at the same time (“Zazz, this might not be smart”/”Schwoopsie this isn’t a good idea”) and abruptly stop, sharing confused looks. 

Zazz consoles them both. “Hey, it’s Schwoopsie. Can she hurt me?”

Keeri lowers her shoulders and nods, but Jemilla’s still unconvinced, making Schwoopsie think her plan is working. To soothe her friend, she puts a hand over her heart. “I won’t make Razzle-Zazzle talk about anything she doesn’t want to. Scout’s honor.”

Zazz’s expression turns confused. “I thought only scouts could use that…”

“I’ll have you all know that I was a Boy Scout until tenth grade,” She retorts, sticking out her tongue, “So don’t be mean to me or you won’t be on my apocalypse survival team.”

Her confused look remains briefly; Schwoopsie can see the moment Zazz remembers she’s trans, as her eyes widen and she nods softly. “Right, yeah.”

Jemilla sighs. “Fine, okay, I’ll drop it.”

Keeri probably takes pity on Jemilla, because she speaks up. “Jemilla, do you want to go grab some food?”

Glancing at the other two girls one last time, she nods, and they walk off.

Schwoopsie sighs and flops back down onto her back. “Finally; that took longer than normal.”

“What did?” Schwoopsie sees Zazz lie down on her back too, copying her body language.

“Getting Jemilla to leave. It usually takes a little more than the others, but still…”

“Huh. I wonder why…”

Schwoopsie snorts. “I _know_ why, and I’m still annoyed.”

“Aw, Schwoops, don’t just leave me in the dark here!” She hears shuffling from the other girl.

“She’s worried about you.” The shuffling stops. “You told her -- and me, which I’m grateful for -- about this shitty trauma you were pushed into relatively recently, and the next day we get a message about your phone being busted and how you’re taking a day for yourself.”

She stays quiet for a beat, waiting. Then, “I didn’t mean to scare you guys.”

Softly, still looking at the clouds, “She texted you, right?” 

A beat. “She wanted to talk again.”

“You’re not obligated to talk to-”

“But I _have_ to! I-if I don’t, she’ll keep thinking it- keep thinking it was just an _accident_ , that I _didn’t_ distract him, that- that…”

Schwoopsie moves quickly: she sits up, moving closer to Zazz, and puts a hand over her mouth to cut her off. “Hey, no. Zazzalil, You don’t get to meet up with this chick until you get more of this shit sorted out.” She takes her hand away, but continues before Zazz can keep talking. “First of all: the crash wasn’t your fault, okay? _It’s not your fault._ My psych professor last year talked about survivor’s guilt, and what you’re spewing fits it to a T.”

Zazz is holding onto her right wrist, eyes averted from the other girl. “But… I’m the only one who survived…”

Schwoopsie senses that right now is the perfect time to change the subject. “Speaking of survival, I need to figure out what you’d do on my apocalypse team.”

Zazz starts, clearly not expecting it. “Oh… I’m uh, really good at starting fires? And not always on purpose.”

“Huh. Well, food prep is a necessity, but you need more than that. How’s your aim? How strong are you?”

“No, don’t let me near our food supplies, I’d be a terror. My aim’s not terrible, and I can at least carry Keeri in my arms.”

A low whistle. “Damn, Zazzy, you gotta tell Jemilla that fact.” Refusing to elaborate, she plows on. “So, ballistics and defense, along with supply carrier.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jemilla, _sit down._ ” Keeri has used this voice exclusively around Zazz until today. 

The other girl smiles sheepishly, sitting back down (again). 

Keeri sighs. “Look, Jemilla, I understand that you’re worried about Zazz, but I trust Schwoopsie to keep her safe and unhurt.”

“I know, and I don’t normally worry so much, but--” Jemilla’s eyes widen, and she claps her hands once, startling Keeri. “I forgot to take my meds! That explains it…”

“Meds?” Keeri watches her dig around her bag. “What for? Only if you’re okay telling me, that is…”

“No, I’m really open about it.” She re-emerges with a pill bottle. “It’s Prozac, for my anxiety. I’m usually good at taking it, but sometimes I can get pre-occupied and skip it, so I have a couple in my bag at all times.” 

In one deft move, she opens the bottle and throws a green and white pill into her mouth, dry swallowing. Keeri watches, nodding. “How long have you been on it?”

She closes her eyes, thinking for a minute before reopening them. “I think since fifth or sixth grade? Ducker would know better.” She snaps her fingers. “SB would know the exact date; they’re good at that sort of stuff.”

“Wait, they? I thought I heard Emberly using he/him for SB…”

“Oh, he uses he/him and they/them. They prefer to have us alternate between them, but he’s okay with you just using one set if that’s hard to do.”

“SB uses both, okay.” She makes a mental note. 

“Yeah, at this point I’m pretty sure no one in my friend group is straight except Emberly-- No,” she corrects herself, “she’s ace and likes guys.”

Keeri laughs a little. “Well, Zazz is far from straight, and I’m bi, so there’s two more queer friends for you.”

“Wow, do I know any straight people?” Jemilla starts laughing too.

“Tribe of Misfits? More like Tribe of Queers!”

“Actually, Ducker doesn’t like to call himself queer,” she points out. 

Keeri thinks for a moment. “Tribe of Rainbows? No-” She snaps her fingers. “Rainbow Tribe!”

Jemilla smiles. “I think our group chat has a new name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoink this isn't the only chapter I finished in my absence (which was tech week and strike, why did my school decide Sweeney Todd was better than Legally Blonde?)


	21. Saturday (iii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looks back at her, smile playing at his lips, but his smile fades quickly at the confused look on Emberly’s face. Slowly, she speaks. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a live fish if you gave me one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look a second chapter

“Hey, Emberly!” 

“Emberlyyyy!”

“Yo!” 

It wasn’t until Grant started waving his arms did Emberly notice him. She moves to him, smiling. “Hey, Grunt!”

“It’s Grant, but I wanted to thank you again for helping me catch up on the class time I missed.” He ducks his head, unknowingly obscuring his mouth from her vision. “I probably wouldn’t be doing well in that class at all if you and your friends hadn’t let me join you.”

He looks back at her, smile playing at his lips, but his smile fades quickly at the confused look on Emberly’s face. Slowly, she speaks. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a live fish if you gave me one.”

He laughs nervously, unsure of how to respond. He settles for a joke. “Haha, do you need hearing aids, Emberly?”

“Probably.” His laughter dies. “My family’s insurance doesn’t cover them, though, and we can’t afford to pay for them out of pocket, so I’ve never asked to get a hearing test.”

“Oh, huh.” He scratches his chin for a minute (Should he grow a beard?). “Do you know any sign language?”

She waves her hand in an _eh_ gesture. “I’ve been trying to learn it for years, but I’ve never had the time to get past the basics.”

“Me too, actually.” He gets an idea. “Hey, what if we learn together?”

“You’d do that?” She sounds taken aback. “ASL is pretty much a whole other language-”

He holds a hand up to stop her. “If it helps me communicate with a friend, I’ll do it.”

She smiles up at him. Gosh, she’s cute… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Molag only left her bed to use the bathroom, grabbing her meal(s) for the day in the same trip. Her roommates have finally gotten used to her weekend habits, if not her snoring. 

Canes are annoying, and she can do short distances well enough that she hops on her good leg to move around the apartment. She would have been fine with an amputation, but the medics had to repeatedly tell her that her injury didn’t require losing a limb, and she wasn’t going to disobey the doctors just to get a cool leg (even if she really wanted it). So, the cane stood in an umbrella rack during the weekend, and she hopped.

The neighbors downstairs still complain about the thudding, but the privileged fucks can suffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have,,, started to make plans


	22. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, religion is confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you noticed and cared, I changed the chapter title style, mostly so I can keep track of how much time has passed in-universe.
> 
> Serious note: I am Catholic, and very religious. I'm delegating Sunday chapters to religious introspection, a couple characters at a time. I'll try to be as inclusive as possible, but I'm human, and don't know everything. If I misrepresent a religion, TELL ME. I will listen, learn, and fix what I did wrong.
> 
> anyways, have this before some minor plot next chapter

Zazz’s alarm blares at eight thirty, and she turns it off just as quickly as it turns on. Blearily, she rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling.

She remains half awake in that position until her second alarm goes off at nine. It’s only when she turns that one off that her first thought of the day flits through her mind. 

Her mom is in church right now. She isn’t.

She furrows her eyebrows. So what if she hasn’t attended a single mass since high school; her par- her _mom_ always said she didn’t have to in college. It’s not like missing church makes her a bad Catholic.

Right?

She huffs out a deep breath and scrubs her face, registering the shuffling of fabric that indicates Keeri awakening. Keeri had attended her confirmation, seen her become an adult in the eyes of the church, but Zazz knows religion isn’t Keeri’s thing. 

Is Catholicism Zazz’s thing? Is she still a practicing Catholic? _Ay dios mio_ , when was the last time she _prayed_? 

Keeri, knowing full well that Zazz has this conversation with herself every Sunday, gives her a small “good morning” and continues her routine.

A sigh escapes Zazz’s mouth. The day of rest is just a day of self-reflection and worship, according to the Hatchetfield priest. Being in a church is optional. So, she reasons, as long as she stays self-reflection...y… she should be fine.

Right? 

God, religion is confusing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Jewish services are on Saturday. Six was the first prayer for the Muslim students and staff. Six thirty was the Presbyterians. They filter out to the nearest dining hall for lingering as the Mormons come in at eight. At nine, the Catholics have their mass. At ten, there’s a quiet time for self-meditation, and ten-thirty begins the non-denominational service. The Muslim students and teachers come back in after noon, as well as before dinner and after sundown. Some of them come back in once more before midnight. Between them, quiet reflection occurs for anyone who wants it.

Throughout all of this, Chorn sits in the back of the room. Some teachers wave at the redhead, while the majority of the student population stay in their own bubble. 

Someone once tried to speak to Chorn about a service, asking about the sermon. She even asked a question. “What are you even doing here?”

The response was the only word Chorn spoke that day. “Praying.”

It’s the Chapel. It’s for prayer, meditation, reflection. Chorn ignores labels, including religious sects. On the day called by most the Day of Prayer, Chorn prays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chorn is,,, rapidly becoming one of my favorite characters


	23. Monday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I feel like such a middle schooler, passing notes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more plot in these next coupla chapters

The paper nudging her elbow came as a surprise. Zazz looks over to Jemilla, confused, but sees the taller girl facing Lupin again. Curiosity peaked, she looks at the note. She sees multiple conversation starters crossed out, until one remains untouched.

_I feel like such a middle schooler, passing notes._

Stifling a smile, she pulls out a pen (Zazz takes notes on her laptop, if at all) and scrawls out a messy reply under the (as expected) neat handwriting.

_we both have phones + gmail. you couldve opened a hangouts chat or something, you picked our conversation style_

Refocusing on Professor Lupin, she waits about a minute and a half for a reply.

_I wouldn’t have picked this if I knew beforehand how atrocious your handwriting is._

_you made this bed, now cry in it,_

Zazz replies quickly, already giggling in anticipation of Jemilla’s reaction.

_That made… no sense._

Feeling a surge of bravery, she writes out the reply that comes to her brain before she can back out. 

_that’s life, babe_

She resolutely looks forward, nerves and ears tuned towards her friend. She blinks once, realizing that yeah, Jemilla _is_ her friend, and almost missing the sharp intake of breath from her.

Peering from the corner of her eye, she watches the taller girl. She’s focused on the paper, cheeks darker than normal (or is that a shadow?). She seems lost in her own thoughts, so Zazz discreetly nudges her before refocusing on Lupin.

She feels Jemilla’s gaze on her for a moment, but she remains facing forward, eventually hearing the scribbling of a pen against paper. Gathering her confidence, she looks.

_Well, I needed to learn that sooner or later. Thanks, babe._

She barely has time to process the words before Lupin is calling out, “Right, the homework’s online, now get outta here!”

“Jemi-” She tries to call out, but the taller girl is up and out of her reach before Lupin’s done talking, and out of earshot before Zazz can get her name out, leaving the smaller girl sitting there, holding a piece of looseleaf, thoughts racing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Why did I do that, why did I do that, why did I do-_

“Milla!” It’s been hours, yet this morning’s note-passing conversation still echoes through Jemilla’s mind. Schwoopsie’s cry is a welcome reprieve of her thoughts, and she changes her trajectory to her friend on Lake Quad. 

“It’s been a while since we talked, Schwoops.” She smiles softly, setting her bag down and flopping next to the blonde.

“Yeah, it’s why I called you over.” There’s something in Schwoopsie’s voice that makes Jemilla frown. She looks at her face to see… trepidation? “Looks, there’s… _some_ thing still between us, and it’s making almost every interaction we have awkward.” Jemilla opens her mouth to argue. “Am I wrong?” She shuts her mouth, silently acknowledging her agreement. “I just think…” Schwoopsie closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I just think we need to… air our grievances, our concerns.”

“Concerns?” Sure, their breakup wasn’t… the cleanest, but it was mutual, and they’re still friends. “I… I don’t…”

Schwoopsie sighs. “I’ll go first.” 

She doesn’t speak immediately, though, and Jemilla remains quiet.

She looks off into the distance. Taking a deep breath, Schwoopsie begins. “I had to figure myself out. I was your boyfriend for… most of freshman year, and your girlfriend for less than a week. I hadn’t said “I’m a girl” out loud before telling you. Me coming out to you was also me coming out to myself.” She looks to Jemilla, a sad smile playing at her lips. “I’ve figured some of myself out now, and part of that is… I still love you.”

Jemilla blinks, shock overcoming her features. Schwoopsie continues before she can comment. “I’m not… I don’t know if… it might be shifting to platonic, or has already shifted, or… _something_ … but it doesn’t matter. You like someone else. No,” she holds up a hand to shut Jemilla up, “I can tell. I always could tell. I _do_ love you, but I won’t act on it.”

Jemilla flounders for words, trying to find a response, a reaction, _anything_ , but she can’t find the words, can’t find the reaction, can’t-

“Jemilla?” A voice breaks through her thoughts, but it isn’t Schwoopsie. It came from behind her. Jemilla stiffens up, eyes widening, heart beginning to race.

She had completely forgotten about that.

_Shit!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ready for this


	24. Monday (ii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I fucking suck at friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with the two chapters in one day
> 
> What can I say; I've been inspired

Schwoopsie waves at Zazzy, noting and ignoring the panic on Jemilla’s face. Yes, she just confessed to her, but she’s not going to be rude to her friend. “Hey, Dazzle Zazz!”

Zazzy jumps, clearly not noticing Schwoopsie, but waving back nonetheless. “Oh, hey Schwoops. I, uh,” she clears her throat, “I need to talk to Jemilla? If you don’t mind…” 

Schwoopsie looks down at Jemilla, still facing Schwoopsie and whose face is slowly becoming noticeably red (And that takes a lot), then back up to Zazzy, shifting her weight nervously and holding a piece of paper. She shrugs. “Yeah, sure. We can keep talking later.”

A relieved look flashes across Zazzy’s face while a betrayed look flashes across Milla’s. Unsuccessfully hiding her nerves (well, Zazzy might be convinced), Jemilla turns around to face the shorter girl.

Schwoopsie can practically _feel_ the awkwardness between the girls grow, before Zazzy drops down and sits, clutching the paper tighter. “Right, okay…” She looks down, seemingly searching for words to begin. 

The moment Zazzy went _“fuck it”_ in her brain is very obvious to the blonde looking on, and she quickly follows it by catching Jemilla’s eye and beginning. “I fucking suck at friends.”

Jemilla leans back, confusion lacing her tone. “Okay…”

“No, I do. Before this year, I _literally_ only talked to Keeri for two and a half years straight.” She furrows her brows slightly. “Well, I don’t do anything straight, but that’s not the point. The point is…” She’s beginning to turn red. “The, uh… you… I…”

Giving up, she holds the paper out to Jemilla. Schwoopsie only catches a glance of two different styles of handwriting scrawled across the page before Jemilla takes it and holds it to her chest. “Zazzalil, I--”

“I just… If you didn’t like me writing it… I won’t say or write it again.”

Okay, now her curiosity is peaked. She has half a mind to steal the paper, but she doesn’t have time to move before Jemilla does. Schwoopsie watches as Jemilla leans forward and places a hand on Zazzy’s arm. “I liked it. You can… Call me that, but- but not out loud, for now? It can be our thing.”

A small smile graces Zazzy’s features as she absorbed this new information. Schwoopsie _really_ wants to know their thing. “Sure.”

The two girls look at each other, unmoving, for a while, and when Schwoopsie realizes neither of them are going for a kiss she coughs, causing them to jump. “Well, I’m heading back to my dorm. See y’all in English!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**BaDumTss:** _does zazzy have her phone back yet?_

**DeeriKeeri:** _yeah, we went to clivesdale’s mall to get the screen fixed at a kiosk._

**BaDumTss:** _great_

**BaDumTss:** _i gotta feelin shes gonna be talkin to jmills a bunch_

Keeri, in her room, frowns, totally abandoning her homework.

**DeeriKeeri:** _why? i mean, i’m glad she’s texting more than just me, but why?_

**BaDumTss:** _her and jmills just had a convo in front of me that ended with them closer than before is all_

**DeeriKeeri:** _oh._

She looks up from her phone at the sound of Zazz entering, taking note of her smile and its origin (whatever she’s reading on her phone). “How was your day? Not too bad, I hope?”

She looks up. “No, not bad at all. The notes everyone took for me were really good, I learned more than I would have in class, I think.” Her phone buzzes in her hand, and she looks down, smiling.

“I’m glad.” Keeri pauses, adding “Who are you talking to?”

“Hm? Oh, just Jemilla.”

“That’s good. It’s been a while since you’ve texted anyone other than me or your mom.”

That stops her fingers. “Yeah, it has.”

Keeri bites the inside of her cheek before speaking. “Have you… has _she_ texted you yet?”

Zazz looks up at her. “I haven’t told her my phone is fixed yet.”

“Will you?”

No answer.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. I… don’t know if I want to.”

Keeri stands up, pulling Zazz into a hug. They stand there in silence for a while, before Zazz pulls back. “What was that for?”

_Because you’re happy._

_Because you let me._

_Because I love you._

“Just because.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways please comment moments/characters you want to see from me and they will show up eventually/later


	25. Tuesday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ducker stopped paying attention to Molag five minutes ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not dead

Keeri should have expected this.

She doesn’t know where their dorm is. She doesn’t know that Zazz’s phone is fixed. She doesn’t know how else to contact her.

Despite it being an obvious next step, Keeri did not expect Emma Perkins to walk up to her before Biology and start a conversation. 

She watches at Emma shifts back and forth on her feet, avoiding eye contact and stammering out apologies.

Trying to hide her discomfort, Keeri stops her. “I can’t just accept these apologies _for_ her, Em.” The old nickname rolls off her tongue with too much familiarity for her liking. “I don’t know when Zazz will fix her phone, but I’ll make sure she contacts you when she does.”

Emma nods, hesitating, on the brink of leaving, before “Why do you hate me?” spills out of her mouth.

Confused, Keeri tilts her head. “I never hated you.” She sees the other girl still. “I’m disappointed that neither of you reached out to contact the other before now. I’m upset that something that was neither of yours’ fault left her with a crushing guilt and panicking over seeing you again. I’m sad that I lost one of my friends over this. But it was never hate.”

Schwoopsie sits down already ranting before Emma can respond, effectively ending Keeri’s previous conversation. Turning her attention to Schwoopsie, she doesn’t look over her shoulder. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ducker stopped paying attention to Molag five minutes ago. He’s doodling the Duck, and has his Avian Texts out on his desk. He’s been trying to memorize this one passage for weeks, now, and he’s still stumbling after the forty-second line. Unknowingly, he begins to mutter the verses aloud.

“And would the kid with the weird-ass hat please stop mumbling about birds while I’m trying to explain the oh-so riveting definition of epistrophe?” Ducker looks up to see Molag and about twenty other students looking at him. Turning red, he closes the Texts and apologizes. Satisfied, Molag resumes her swear-laden speech with a “privileged fuck” as he slides further into his seat.

He hates being the center of attention. Sure, the rituals demand for someone to lead them, but at this college it’s either him or Tiblyn, and she almost failed her oral presentation last year. He’s okay with leading a group, as long as the group is five or less people; that’s part of the reason he attached himself to Avianism so strongly. It has a small following, and there’s never been a get-together of followers larger than twenty. 

Jemilla still doesn’t fully understand it, but she supports him and lets him be. He’s heard how she swears, too; “fuck a Duck” travels easily through the wall between their rooms. SB lets him rant and ramble about the most obscure parts of Avianism, all with a soft smile and a rant about the Bible ready to go. 

One of his high school friends once asked if SB and him were dating, and Ducker didn’t have an answer for her. Glancing at them as Molag talks… There’s an obvious answer, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School is winding down for me, I hope to write more when I can


	26. Tuesday (ii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All business classes are in Pigfarts, actually, but Chorn didn’t know that until Zazz started rambling five minutes ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear this fic isn't just about Emma and Zazz

Zazz is not sitting alone at lunch, as much as she wants to. She has friends surrounding her, having conversation around her. _Friends_ , plural. Ever since… since the Crash (that’s the only way she can think of it without crying), she’s just had the one. 

Now, three people are willing to surround her. Keeri sits on her right; faithful Keeri, caring Keeri, supportive Keeri. Schwoopsie is across from Keeri, at the edge of the table; funny Schwoopsie, strong Schwoopsie, comforting Schwoopsie. And across from Zazz, leaning forwards slightly, sits Jemilla. Jemilla, who gave her coffee on the first day of classes. Jemilla, who she trusted enough after barely a week to tell her about everything. Jemilla, who listened. Jemilla, who recognizes her boundaries already. Jemilla, who she has an inside joke with.

Zazz might want to sit alone right now, but she’s not upset that she has friends to surround her.

She _is_ upset that she knows the group won’t allow the thoughts running through her head to happen.

Her food needed a knife; the college, as a rule, doesn’t give out metal knives. The flimsy plastic bends easily in her grip, and she focuses on it instead of the conversation around her. 

What if she skips business?

Professor Pennyworth would notice, yeah, but it’s not like she can’t make up the work. Besides, he doesn’t have a skip limit; she just needs to go to the tests. What is it that mom said? “C’s get degrees.”

“What?” Zazz looks up to three sets of eyes looking at her. Oops. 

“Did I say that out loud?”

Schwoopsie chuckles. “Yeah. What’s up in your head? You zoned out on us, Zazzy-pants.”

“Not that one.” She looks back down at the knife. The easily breakable knife. “Nothing much, just...” A red car. An unknown number. Her fault. Freezing. The knife. A metal knife. Red. “Just thinking of skipping my next class.”

Jemilla moves at the edge of her vision. “She’s in it, isn’t she.” Not a question, but she nods confirmation anyways.

“I have dance at the same time as your business class…” Keeri looks around the table. 

Schwoopsie raises her hands. “I promised someone from Violets for Violence that i’d help them with some freshman work later.”

“And Emberly and I have plans, though we could always-”

“No, you don’t have to do that.” Zazz quickly interrupts. “I don’t need someone to sit in my class with me.”

“How about an escort, then?” They all look to Schwoopsie. “Someone to bring you to and from class, and will wait outside for you if you need to run out.”

Zazz tries to come up with an argument, but she slowly nods her head. “Sure, yeah. Who?”

“I know for a fact that Chorn has nothing to do then; would you be opposed to my roommate as an escort?”

She has no qualms with Chorn; she also has never held a conversation with Chorn. “Sure, Chorn’s good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zazzalil was nervous and not ready to open up. She keeps fidgeting her hands, grabbing her wrist; a nervous habit Chorn’s noticed. 

The business class Zazz takes is in Pigfarts, the building with the stupidest name on campus. All business classes are in Pigfarts, actually, but Chorn didn’t know that until Zazz started rambling five minutes ago.

Well, five minutes before they reached her classroom. The class was almost over, now, and Chorn had been leaning against the wall across from the doorway for the last seventy minutes.

Almost sinking back into reflection the door swinging open early takes Chorn by surprise, as does the quickly retreating figure of Zazzalil down the hall. Scrambling to catch up, the redhead calls out her name and starts running. Catching up quickly (thank the Beings for crew runs), a hand on her arm is all it takes to stop the girl.

She looks back, then ducks her head before meeting Chorn’s eyes (sheepish). “Sorry Chorn, guess I forgot you were there.”

“I’m easily ignored.” 

“Right.” She shifts her weight, grabs the one strap of her bag that she uses (uncomfortable). “Well, off to my room?”

Chorn takes one look back at the classroom, noting a small girl with a bun. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an end to the burn and now we just have to get there


	27. Tuesday (iii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When did she get so lonely?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome I had my last day of school today

**Rainbow Tribe**

**SmellThemBro:** _yo jmills you never explained why we changed the group name_

**Jmills:** _Keeri and I figured out that no one here is straight, and Ducker doesn’t like to be called queer, so rainbow was the next obvious step._

**SmellThemBro:** _why’d you keep the tribe part though_

**DeeriKeeri:** _there’s no reason to change that part_

**DuckisLord:** _So youre saying the Tribe lives?_

**Jmills:** _I never said that._

**Zazzalazz:** _but you never said it didnt_

**Jmills:** _Zazz, don’t antagonize me._

**Zazzalazz:** _cant_

**Zazzalazz:** _ask keeri i always antagonize friends_

**BaDumTss:** _did zazzydazzyrazzy just call someone other than keeri friends?_

**Zazzalazz:** _you speak of this to no one_

**IAmChorn:** _this is the group chat_

**Zazzalazz:** _would you look at the time i have to fold my socks_

**DeeriKeeri:** _i have never seen you try and organize your sock drawer in any way, zazz_

**DeeriKeeri:** _that’s why we gave up and got you a million of the same color_

**Zazzalazz:** _dont expose me this way_

**Firely:** _I think it’s a little late for that_

**Tibulyn:** _keeri you are brutal_

**Zazzalazz:** _this is why i dont call many people friends_

**Zazzalazz:** _i get exposed_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Molag, in the _actual_ professor’s office during _his_ office hours, never sees a damn soul for help or conversation. She doesn’t expect to, at this point; a required class in sophomore year? Fuck that; just pass and move on is the motto for everyone.

Still, this is the greatest chance for social interaction she gets, and no one comes. 

Her cane leans against the desk, the door is open, and she sits on her phone for three hours.

When did she get so lonely?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully more chapters will come quicker? i still have no definite update schedule


	28. Wednesday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I thought you and Jemilla-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im feeling like this fic will end before summer does

SB looks to his right. Tiblyn and Ducker are, once again, ignoring everything Professor Ja’far is saying, while having a heated silent (still a mystery as to how that works) conversation about the translation of the Avian Texts. They sigh, knowing he won’t be able to put their two cents in no matter how many times Ducker rants to him about it, and turns to their left instead.

Zazzalil looks half checked out of the lecture, half trying to stay awake. SB nudges her, partly to wake her up and partly to try and invest himself in a conversation. “Long night, Zazzalil?”

She starts, sitting up to re-enter reality. “Uh, yeah, sorta.” 

They smile, keeping his voice down. They’re all in the back of the room, but still. “Got a partner keeping you up?”

“What? No, I haven’t dated anyone since- I only had- No, not a girlfriend.” She gets all flustered suddenly, but they know when to back off.

“Got it. Interesting conversation?”

“Yeah, sorta.” She shrugs. “Jemilla and I were talking until, like, at least one, but neither of us realized until her ‘last chance to get enough sleep to function’ alarm went off,” she explains.

He hides their smile. Some good information for Ducker and Schwoopsie… “I can’t believe you got J-mills to stay up past eleven.”

“Does she not… normally?”

He can’t help but laugh. “Nah, she’s such a lawful good that even when we drag her to parties she gets us home by nine.”

Zazzalil looks like she’s thinking. “By we, you mean…”

“Schwoops, Ducker and me.”

“And are you and Ducker--”

“Thank you once again, class, but I must go meet my wife! Have a beautiful day!” Ja’far’s voice interrupts her, and Ducker immediately grabs their attention. “SB, I promised Tiblyn we’d all walk to her cooking class so she could tell us about her new fitness plan, hurry up.”

“Aw, what? You started a new one without me?” He grabs their unopened bag, slinging it on as he stands up in one movement. “Tib, we talked about this!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This seat taken?”

Schwoopsie looks up and smiles when she sees Keeri standing over her, carrying two bags. “Nah, come on down! You here for a Lawn Talk?”

“If talking about random stuff, like friends do, while sitting in your spot in Lake Quad is what Lawn Talk is, then yeah, I am.” She settles down, using one of her bags as a pillow.

Schwoopsie shrugs. “I’m a creature of habit, if nothin’ else.”

“We all are.”

She turns so that she’s watching the clouds. Well, time for awkward segue time. “How are you and Zazzy doing?”

She feels Keeri stiffen beside her. “What do you mean?”

“You two are close. You somehow stayed friends after the whole accident.” She takes a slow breath before continuing, still staring straight up. “It wasn’t just friendship that kept you with her, was it?”

She doesn’t get an immediate response. She half expects Keeri to gather her stuff and leave without answering.

“I’ve never said it out loud before.” Schwoopsie looks over, surprised. “I… in trying so hard to stay connected with Zazz, I disregarded every other friend I made in Hatchetfield, until… until I depended on her as much as she did me.”

She wants to talk, but remains silent. She’s rewarded. “And you’re right; friendship alone doesn’t push people to do what I did. I… I love her.”

“But she doesn’t see it that way,” she puts a hand on Keeri’s arm, “does she?”

Keeri shakes her head. “She never has.”

Something in her voice, how she sounds so pained, so heartbroken, so _defeated_ , pushes Schwoopsie’s next words out of her mouth. “You’ve never been a big crier, have you?”

Keeri shakes her head. “I’ve tried to push it down, or get rid of it, for _years_ , but…”

“I know what you mean.”

She gives Schwoopsie a curious look. “I thought you and Jemilla-”

“Oh, we did,” she interrupts. “My _brain_ knows that.” She pokes her chest. “Try telling my heart, though.”

Keeri blinks, once, then bursts out laughing, sounding surprised with herself. Schwoopsie can’t help it; she joins in. 

“We’re hopeless, aren’t we?” Keeri asks after the laughter dies down.

“Nah, I think if we get ‘em together we’ll hurt less.”

She thinks for a moment before nodding. “Count me in; I want to see her happy.”

“Sweet! Okay, here’s my plan…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry! after this fic ends you guys can comment scene requests for this world, and i'l oneshot them
> 
> I also wrote close to 1000 words about a senior year scene that won't come out until after this fic ends so encourage me to keep writing


	29. Thursday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was always background noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the words of my castmate (whose only wish is to be mistaken as a twink at a gay bar), sokka's a lesbian

_Direct Message:_ **Zazzalazz** _and_ **Jmills**

 **Zazzalazz:** _babe_

 **Jmills:** _Zazzalil, you’re in the middle of your business class. Why are you on your phone?_

 **Zazzalazz:** _i literally just called you babe_

 **Zazzalazz:** _you dont have to type out the entirety of my name_

 **Zazzalazz:** _or say it fully everytime_

 **Zazzalazz:** _zazz works fine_

 **Zazzalazz:** _as to why im texting you_

 **Zazzalazz:** _you know how shes in my business class_

 **Jmills:** _Yes?_

 **Zazzalazz:** _well we were told to get into partners for a project and i saw her turning around to me_

 **Zazzalazz:** _cause she knows i take that class_

 **Zazzalazz:** _and i panicked and forced the guy next to me to be my partner_

 **Zazzalazz:** _he had a deer caught in headlights look the entire time_

 **Zazzalazz:** _and you pretty much know everyone here so i was hoping you could tell me a bit about how to connect with this guy_

 **Zazzalazz:** _please were sitting in the worst awkward silence ever_

 **Jmills:** _I can’t help until you give me a name, babe._

 **Zazzalazz:** _oh fuck right_

 **Zazzalazz:** _i think its john richey or something_

 **Zazzalazz:** _nope joey richter_

 **Zazzalazz:** _ive never seen him without a blue headband_

 **Jmills:** _Oh! Joey was in Choir with me last year; give me a minute to copy my notes about him._

 **Zazzalazz:** _im ignoring the creepiness of that last bit to be in awe that of course you did choir last year_

 **Jmills:** _Joey Richter, Sophomore. He/him, his blue headband is the most recognizable aspect of his outfits, which range from rolled-out-of-bed to at-least-I-tried. Has a girlfriend going to MIT named Sally; his favorite safe-for-work conversation topic is her, so ask about his love life early into the conversation. No homo/transphobia, is a fan of anatomy._

 **Jmills:** _And, for the record, I’m still in choir._

 **Zazzalazz:** _holy shit_

 **Zazzalazz:** _babe youre a godsend thank you_

 **Jmills:** _I’m not sure if a god exists, but thank you for the compliment._

 **Zazzalazz:** _we can broach that topic later_

 **Zazzalazz:** _i have ice to break and a project to start_

 **Zazzalazz:** _see you tomorrow_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jemilla puts down her phone and picks up her pen again, trying to finish up next week’s reading for English. Emberly was over in her friend Grunt’s room, so she had her classical music playlist going to help her concentrate.

It used to be, when her freshman roommate was gone, that Ducker and SB (and sometimes Tiblyn) would sit on her bed and talk as she worked, or Schwoopsie would be her study buddy. There was always background noise.

The song swells, and she reads the same half a paragraph a dozen times before sighing and closing her book. With Emberly gone for increasingly long stretches of time, her brother getting his own life for once, and her friend always busy, Jemilla is left alone foe the first time in a long time.

She’s gotten good at ignoring her panic.

She picks up her phone again and navigates to the call screen before realizing her actions. She tosses her phone onto her bed, music still playing from its tinny speakers. Who was she even going to call? Zazz is in a class, and Schwoops is busy with homework for sure… Wait.

The music ends, leaving a deafening silence that Jemilla doesn’t notice. There’s too much going on inside her head for her to notice something as miniscule as the absence of background noise.

Since when does she think of Zazzalil before Schwoopsie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone in the comments last chapter was afraid that i was gonna drop off the bandwagon (i cannot BELIEVE i wrote wandbagon with my own fingers) for this story, but worry not! I WILL finish it! i might start skipping days, so keep that in mind


	30. Friday (i)/Saturday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How can I learn to trust you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting there I swear

Lupin is talking, but Zazz isn’t paying attention.

Jemilla is humming next to her, soft and low, a vaguely familiar yet completely new tune. Zazz’s mouth moves unbidden, the question “Where did you learn to sing?” tumbling out before her brain catches up.

Jemilla smiles at her, still humming, and holds her finger up to her lips. Her humming grows louder, melodic yet inconsistent, until it seems to be coming from behind Zazz. She turns, finding that Joey guy on her other side, wearing his blue headband and nothing else. 

He turns to her, humming and talking at the same time. “Yeah, I called her Salad until we started dating.” She frowns; he said that to her yesterday in class. The humming grows louder, choppy yet smooth, this time from above. In the row above her is Esther, the local cryptid who gave her relationship advice. She’s humming too, wearing weed-print clothes and opening a pill bottle. 

Zazz tilts her head, about to ask what she’s doing here, when the humming grows louder, beautiful yet painful to listen to, at the front of the classroom. She turns again, finding that Lupin stopped talking -- he stopped ages ago, how did she not realize? -- and is humming along.

“It’s not your fault.” She looks to Jemilla, but it doesn’t look like she spoke. The humming increases in pitch, keeping its tune.

“It’s all your fault.” Esther, pill bottle open and empty. The humming oscillates between deafening and barely there.

“It’s all your fault.” Emma, shirtless, where Lupin once stood, arm in a red cast and bandages all over her stomach. The humming is easier to guess, levelling out to one note.

“It’s all your fault.” Her dad, sitting in the driver’s seat, a red light washing over him. The sirens wail on (they’ve been going on this whole time), blocking out every other noise.

“ _It’s not your fault_.” 

Quiet. 

Zazz looks over and sees Jemilla in the passenger’s seat.

“How can I learn to trust you?” 

“You already do. With more than you know.” Jemilla smiles, bathed in red, putting a hand on the steering wheel (Jemilla’s been driving them somewhere).

Zazz looks straight ahead, over the wheel (Zazz was always the driver), to the red sedan coming, not slowing down. She sees Emma in the passenger’s seat, Jane at the wheel. She locks eyes with Emma, seeing them cold, hateful, so different from the love that used to fill them.

A horn slowly fades in from the outside, the cars keep moving, a jolt is felt--

Zazz sits up, heart racing and breath stuttering in her lungs. She gasps quietly, trying to catch her breath, and succeeds after a few minutes. She puts a hand to her head, unsurprised to find sweat, and checks her phone for the time.

Three in the morning.

She sighs, flopping back onto her pillow. Keeri shifts from across the room, reminding Zazz of what she should be doing: sleeping before her eight a.m. She can’t, though; her mind lets the details slip away, but images and snippets of phrases circle through her head. 

Red. Emma with _her_ injuries. Jemilla in the car with her. Red. The siren, disorienting and deafening. “It’s not your fault.” Red. Emma’s eyes. Red. The song, one she knows while awake but can’t name. Red. Red. Redredredredredredr--

A tear escapes Zazz’s eye, slipping down her temple and entering her hair. She traces a line on her stomach absentmindedly; one of her reminders of that night.

She falls asleep at some point after that, void of dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keeri shifts in her bed again. Her brain won’t calm down enough for sleep to overtake her; she’s just lucky tomorrow’s Saturday.

 _Or… today’s Saturday,_ she corrects herself, glancing at her digital clock.

It’s on these sleepless nights that Keeri envies Zazz’s ability to sleep wherever. If her head's calm enough, she could sleep through an earthquake; she actually did, once.

She sighs. Of course her mind jumps to Zazz immediately. She seems to always think of Zazz first, in every situation. Even love.

She recalls the plan Schwoopsie told her earlier. She’s sure that it’ll work for Jemilla, and Keeri can confirm how Zazz will react to it. That’s not what she’s worried about.

She’s worried about what else it involves. _Who_ else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer work is killing me im sorry yall


	31. Sunday (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wasn’t raised with consistent religion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another religiously reflective chapter, from Jemilla and SB's eyes! im not the happiest with these parts but i cant look at it anymore without screaming so have it

Jemilla opens the washing machine, transferring her wet load into a nearby dryer. After starting up the machine, she leans back against a wall in the laundry room, pulling out her phone.

**Jmills:** _Hey babe, are you busy?_

**Zazzalazz:** _discussing with myself whether or not to go to the catholic service_

**Zazzalazz:** _so far the answer is no_

**Zazzalazz:** _ill keep you posted_

**Jmills:** _I understand. Think hard!_

She sighs. She refreshes every social media app she has five times before locking her phone and slipping it away. Leaning her head against the wall, she closes her eyes, letting the rhythmic _tha-thunk_ of the laundry room fade into her thoughts.

She wasn’t raised with consistent religion. The homes she went to with Ducker before being adopted were either extremely religious, whether Jewish or Muslim or Christian or something else, or uncaring. She grew up with a lot of questions, and no consistent answers. She still can’t decide of she believes in anything or not.

Sunday is Laundry Day, to her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SB arrives at the Chapel at ten twenty-five, early for service. He looks down at their outfit; jeans and a t-shirt. He’s just lucky that the Chapel doesn’t have a dress code. They walk in, taking his usual seat in the middle, and bow their head. He comes early for this small moment, when it’s just them and God. This small moment, years ago, led him to figuring out who they really are.

He usually sees themself and God in a comfortable room, sitting in armchairs; just the two of them. He makes it casual. They’ve learned that if it’s too formal, he can’t get their problems off his chest.

They believe that God is truly talking to him, in this room they created, and that when he explains their problems to God he gets an answer. They’ve talked to a lot of different pastors from different branches about how he sees God, and still hasn’t found a definitive denomination. They’re Christian, next question.

His conversation is interrupted by the pastor walking in to begin the service, so they shelve his questions for later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there ARE non-christian people in the tribe i swear, im just catholic and getting the ones i know the most about done with
> 
> next chapter's gonna skip monday and head straight to tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a multi-chaptered fic, and I sincerely hope you don't expect a consistent update schedule, because you're not getting one. I'm writing this with no buffer, and uploading as I decide "Yeah, it's chapterable" and upload it.
> 
> my tumblr is judastarkid, come yell at me about shit I write


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